


A Million Dreams Ago

by halfd3af



Series: The Chronicles of Orion [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Anxiety, Death, Depression, Existential Crisis, Existentialism, Gender Dysphoria, Grief, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Misgendering, cursing, dissociating, rest in peace my OC's emotions, this arc is just super traumatizing for my OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-07-09 03:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 46,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19881229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfd3af/pseuds/halfd3af
Summary: After completing One More Tomorrow, I decided to go back and flesh out Orion’s beginnings in this post-nuclear apocalypse! It touches upon key events that lead up to OMT.





	1. It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

**Author's Note:**

> A Million Dreams Ago is a Frankie Carle song as well, and I'm continuing my chapter naming convention of using old movie titles!

When I would feel overwhelmed with school, with my family, _anything_ , Robert would take me out for a movie.

It didn’t have to be a good movie; even with the most critically panned films, we would have a blast complaining and laughing about it.

His smile and laughter would soothe my anxiety like nothing else.

_He was so cold... the gaping wound in his chest..._

_Stop it!_

_I couldn’t do anything to stop it... I couldn’t help him..._

_Don’t think about it!_

_He’s dead... He’s dead..._

_I’m never gonna hear him laugh again..._

_Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it!_

_I was surrounded by dead bodies in a nuclear bunker..._

_So many dead bodies... I had to bury them all along with my husband..._

_I couldn’t just leave them there..._

_Don’t think about don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think about it-_

“Ma’am? Are you okay in there?” I hear Preston say, interrupting the flurry of thoughts in my head.

I glance down through the Power Armor’s visor at the giant lizard lying dead on the ground and the bloody tire iron in my hand. _I feel like I’m trapped in a fucking nightmare._

“You... you called that thing a ‘Deathclaw’ right?” I ask quietly, getting down to take a closer look at it.

“They’re one of the fiercest monsters in the Commonwealth, and you killed it with a _tire iron_!” The man says with a voice full of amazement.

It only happened a few moments ago, but wrestling with the beast felt like it had occurred eons in the past.

“This Power Armor here should get all the credit, not me. The suits are made to greatly amplify your natural strength” I respond automatically, lifting up the crushed skull of the Deathclaw with the metal rod.

“Well, if you say so” I hear him scoff. “Listen, Andie, when we met earlier, you said you were glad to help. Well, you did. We owe you our lives” He adds with a tone of intense gratitude.

_I think it’s safer for me to keep up this feminine façade... no one would want to help a freak like me if they knew the truth._

I lift my head at the sound of clinking metal, and he’s holding a small pouch in his hands. “So here, it’s not much, but it’s the best way I can say thank you” He says, pressing the bag into my open palm.

I untie it’s drawstring to reveal several dozen Nuka-Cola bottle caps, and my eyebrows furrow into deep confusion. _I guess this is the currency nowadays..._

“What will your people do now?” I question, looking behind him at the other four members of his group. “Well, we wanted to try creating a settlement for us to live somewhere around here...” Preston responds despondently, a sigh escaping his chest. _Wait a second._

“There’s a Pre-War neighborhood a few minutes up the road, and I think it’s just what y’all need. Wanna come check it out?” I offer, peering at the setting sun above us.

“It’s a lot safer than here”. _And I’m it’s only living resident, so it’s not like the neighborhood is getting much use..._

Preston’s eyes glimmer with hope as he agrees wholeheartedly, and soon I’m leading them to what was supposed to be Robert and I’s forever home. As we approach the Red Rocket gas station, I hear the bark of a dog.

I flinch as a German Shepherd rushes towards us, and I’m ready to throw one of my knives at it before the elderly woman in the group yells out “Wait!”.

The canine continues running, and he comes to a halt just in front of her with his tail wagging and tongue lolling. She gives him a good scratch behind the ears as I cautiously ask “Is that your dog?”. My mind goes back to when an overeager dog scratched my chin as a kid and left a permanent scar.

“Oh he ain’t my dog. No ma’am. Dogmeat, he’s what you’d call his own man” She rasps, and he seemingly barks in agreement. “You can’t own a free spirit like that. But he chooses his friends, and sticks with ‘em”.

Dogmeat trails behind us as we continue towards the bridge connecting to Sanctuary, and I can feel the group’s spirits raising like a high fever. “This is.. this is perfect” Preston says with awe as we stop in the street before my house.

“You guys can take this house here, the Whitfields had the biggest floor plan. I’ll be right across the street” I suggest as I exit the Power Armor in our old garage.

Codsworth eventually floats up to me and I explain that these people will be living in Sanctuary now. “Can you assist our new neighbors with any amenities they might need? And once you finish, can you guard the bridge again like you did last night?” I ask of the robot, and he agrees with zero hesitancy.

Preston profusely thanks me once more, and his people excitedly shuffle into the house to settle down for the night. My gaze is drawn down the road, towards the large tree in the cul-de-sac.

 _If you go down there, you’re going to cry. Just... just try to go to sleep. You haven’t slept in almost two days._ I force myself to retreat inside my home, and I try not to feel so alone under the covers of Robert and I’s bed.

_“Hi honey! Listen, I don’t think Shaun and I need to tell you how great of a father you are... but we’re going to anyway”_ Robert says, and I can practically hear his teasing smile. _“You are kind, and loving...”_ He starts, before Shaun interrupts the recording with a small laugh. _“And funny!”_.

 _“I would say that you have extraordinary patience too, but we both know that your fuse can run short with your idiot husband. He doesn’t have your smart brain”_ He says with a chuckle.

 _“It’s been amazing to be home with you after almost two years of deployment, and it’s even harder to believe that we’re parents! We, the constant outcasts in life, responsible for a tiny human life!”_ A feeling of wonder emanates from his voice with that last part. 

_“And despite what everyone around us will say, you are NOT my wife or Shaun’s mother. You are my absolutely amazing husband who shares the title of being his father. Maybe someday the rest of the world will know this truth about us, Orion, but that doesn’t matter right now. Right now, I want you to know how much I love you and Shaun, and how that will never ever change”_ The love in his voice is raw, and this is the part that always starts the tears.

 _“Tell your father how much you love him, Shaun. C’mon! Okay, we’ll assume that burp was on purpose”_ I hearRobert’s attempts to coax sounds out of Shaun. _“Now say goodbye! Bye bye? Say bye bye? Bye honey! We love you!”._

The holotape concludes the recording with a soft click, and I resist the urge to insert it into my Pip-Boy again.

I’ve listened to the tape almost a hundred times, and it twists a knife into my grief every single time.

I hold our wedding photo in my hands, and try to mentally block out the sight of his corpse with his picturesque smiling expression.

_I told myself I wasn’t going to go out there but..._

I swing out of bed and shove my feet into my gray work boots, of which I’m still grateful that I was wearing the day the bombs fell.

I slip on Robert’s bomber jacket that had been kept safe in a bin under our bed, and his reasoning for going into the Air Force after being drafted floats into my mind.

_“Isn’t it obvious? If I’m a pilot, you’ll be watching over me no matter where I’m at” He had stated as he pointed at the stars above us towards the direction of my namesake._

I guess my heavenly counterpart really did watch over him for his two dozen bombing missions. It probably helped that he even had his crewmates agree on the name “ _Bewitching Bellatrix_ ” for their bomber, as it’s one of the stars making up Orion’s pattern.

My feet take me to Robert’s grave, and I lay my back against the large ash tree to gaze at the stars. A blur of light streaks across the sky, and I can feel my jaw lower in shock. _No way... is it really?_

My question is answered when several more meteors burn up in the atmosphere. I can feel tears well up in my eyes as I watch the Orionids paint the night sky with smears of white. _Even after all this time, they’re still going strong..._

A soft whine startles me from my meteor watching, and I spot Dogmeat slowly trotting up the cul-de-sac towards me. I try not to flinch as he settles against my legs, and I cautiously hold out my hand to pet him.

He lays there docilely as I begin petting his neck in deliberate and long strokes, and I can feel my nervousness around him starting to fade as he lays his head in my lap.

We laid there until the stars faded with the approach of dawn, and I let out a sigh as I realize that I’d now gone two nights without sleep. I slowly become aware of a person walking up the street toward us, and I eventually recognize her as the elderly woman from Preston’s group.

“He’ll stay by you now. I saw it” She wheezes, her eyes giving off a glazed appearance. “Saw it?” I question with a raise of my eyebrows.

“I saw you leave that ice box. I know your pain. This world, it’s not yours, but here you are. You’re a woman out of time, out of hope” She continues, as if she hadn’t heard me speak. “But all’s not lost. I can feel... your son’s energy. He’s alive”.

I nearly launch myself off the ground before remembering Dogmeat on my lap. “What? You’re sure he’s alive? Do you know where he is?” My voice a shrill whisper.

“Oh, I wish I knew, kid. I really do. But it’s not like I can see your son. I can just... feel his life force, his energy. He’s out there” She replies, finally acknowledging my presence.

“How am I supposed to find him? He could be anywhere!” I say in defeat, my fingers curling into a fist. “I don’t need The Sight to tell you where you should start looking. The great, green jewel of the Commonwealth. Diamond City. The biggest settlement around” The woman responds encouragingly.

“Diamond City? What could help me find Shaun there?” I plead for more clarity.

“Diamond City holds answers, but they’re locked tight. You ask them what they know, but people’s hearts are chained up with fear and suspicion” She begins, her statements far from transparent.

“But you find it. You find that heart that’s gonna lead you to your boy. Oh, it’s... it’s bright. So bright against the dark alleys it walks”. She finishes with a deep exhale followed by a string of coughing: “That’s... that’s what you need to do, kid. Follow the signs to the bright heart”.

I glance towards Dogmeat, and he stares right back at me with his dark brown eyes. “You thinking what I’m thinking, boy?” I joke, and he reacts with a bark.

My eyes settle on Robert’s grave, and I silently speak the words: _I won’t stop until I get our son back, honey._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Robert says Orion has no patience, that's in reference to the original holotape script saying that Sole has the "patience of a saint"
> 
> I wanted an alliterative name for Robert's bomber, and something that was feminine and star-related; maybe the crew called the ship BB
> 
> the Orionids take place in late October!
> 
> Dogmeat is Free Dog Therapy
> 
> I already finished the last chapter of this arc, I got several chapters to write before I post it tho- AMDA isn’t going to be very long


	2. City Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5129 words! My longest chapter ever for a fanfiction!

After shooting another feral dog, I struggle to suppress a snort of laughter as Dogmeat and I walk down the darkening street towards Diamond City.  _It’s fucking Fenway Park? Robert would find that both blasphemous AND hilarious._

I hear a woman’s voice yelling as I draw closer. “Hey, open up! The sun’s setting and it’s getting late!” She emphasizes with a bang of her fist on a large metal door covering the entrance to the stadium.

“What do you mean you can’t open the gate? Stop playing around, Danny! I’m standing out in the open here, for crying out loud!”.

“I got orders not to let you in, Ms. Piper. I’m sorry. I’m just doing my job” A voice replies, heavy with resignation.

“‘Just doing your job?’ Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it? ‘Oh look, it’s the scary reporter!’” She snaps, her voice growing angrier.

“I’m sorry, but Mayor McDonough’s really steamed, Piper. Sayin’ that article you wrote was all lies. The whole city’s in a tizzy” He replies with a groan.

“Agh... You open this door right now, Danny Sullivan! I live here, you can’t just lock me out!” She yells with a wave of her arms.

Her head whips around when I deliberately louden my footsteps to alert her of my presence. “You... you want into Diamond City, right?” She questions quietly, her hands waving me closer. 

“I just got here, but yeah” I reply nervously. She glances over her shoulder at an intercom system and holds a finger to her lips, “Shhh, play along”.

“What was that? You said you’re a trader up from Quincy? You have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a whole month?” Piper yells loudly towards the door buzzer.

“You hear that Danny? You gonna open the gate and let us in?” She continues, incredulity creeping into her voice. “Or are you going to be the one talking to crazy Myrna about losing out on all this supply?”.

“Geez, all right. No need to make it personal, Piper. Give me a minute” The man says with a sigh, and I hear an alarm blare as the large door begins to lift upwards.

“Better head inside quick before ol’ Danny catches on to the bluff” The woman suggests with a wily grin at Dogmeat and I. With a nod of my head, we do just that.  That is until we’re greeted by a heavyset man in a patchy brown suit.

“Piper! Who let you back inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut!” He yells, his demeanor becoming flustered with anger. “You devious, rabble-rousing slanderer! The... the level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I’ll have that printer scrapped for parts!”.

“Ooh, that a statement, Mr. McDonough? ‘Tyrant mayor shuts down the press’?” She retorts, her hands balling into fists at her side.  _Ouch, she called him MISTER_. 

“Why don’t we ask the newcomer? You support the news? ‘Cause the mayor’s threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster” Piper suddenly asks me, her sharp eyes seemingly trying to pierce into my thoughts. 

“This really isn’t any of my business...” I say neutrally, trying to let my discomfort show through my body language. 

_God, what have I gotten myself into? WHERE have I gotten myself into?_ As if the man could read my thoughts, “Oh, I didn’t mean to bring you into this argument, miss”. 

He continues with an air of seriousness: “No no no... You look like Diamond City material. Welcome to the great green jewel of the Commonwealth! Safe. Happy. A fine place to come, spend your money, settle down. Don’t let this muckraker here tell you otherwise, all right?”. 

_Even if I hadn’t heard his argument with Piper, I already don’t like this guy. Doesn’t he know that muckrakers were mostly GOOD for the public?_ He clears his throat while Piper scoffs. “Now, was there anything particular you came to our city for?” The man asks. 

“I’m trying to find someone” I reply simply, trying to reel in my emerging annoyance.  _You can’t find your son if you let your anger get the best of you- be patient for once, Orion_.  “Trying to find someone? Who?” He asks again, and I parse thickly veiled suspicion in his question.

 _If Mama Murphy is to be trusted, none of these people are going to help me and I have to search for this “glowing heart” on my own. But I guess it can’t hurt to try._ “My son, Shaun. He’s less than a year old” I say, letting a sense of emotional urgency color my tone.

“Wait, your son’s missing?” Piper inquires, her eyebrows raising. “You hear that, McDonough? What’s Diamond City going to do to help this woman, huh? This isn’t the first missing person’s report to come through here, and now we’ve got an infant who’s been taken!”.

He sighs in exasperation. “Don’t listen to her. While I am afraid that our security team can’t follow every case that comes through, I’m confident you can find help here. Diamond City has every conceivable service known to man. One of our great citizens can surely find the time to help you” The man asserts. 

“A mayor of a great city must know everyone. Who can help me?” I sweet talk, softening my expression as I remove my sunglasses. 

“Well, there is one private citizen. Nick Valentine” He stammers, and I try not to groan at how easy that was. “A... detective of sorts, who specializes in tracking people down. Usually for debts or whatnot”. His eyes avert my gaze. 

“Now, I have to get going. I’m sorry Diamond City Security doesn’t have time to help, but I’m sure Mr. Valentine charges a reasonable fee” He adds suddenly, turning to leave. 

“This is ridiculous! I want the truth, McDonough! What’s the real reason security always shrivels away when talk of missing persons comes up?” Piper yells pointedly.

The man’s body practically spins 180 degrees to snap at her: “I’ve had enough of this, Piper. From now on, consider you and that little sister of yours on notice”.

“Yeah, keep talkin’ McDonough. That’s all you’re good for” She retorts as he walks away in a huff. Her head swivels to look me in the eyes. “I’m impressed, not everyone can claw information out of McDonough’s tight-fisted hands” She praises me with a intrigued glance. 

“Hmm, why don’t you stop by my office after you see Valentine? I think I just found my next story” Piper adds, pulling out a small notebook to scribble something down as I walk in with Dogmeat towards the city.

My jaw is dropped open the entire walk down the entry ramp in awe of what I’m seeing. The city is positioned on top of the old baseball field with a bustling marketplace to greet your arrival.

I hear a young girl yelling about “synths replacing people” and if your neighbor is “really human”, and the conversations of people talking about their evening plans. It’s an overload of the senses compared to the quiet ruins of the urban outskirts. 

I  happen upon a street leading further into the stadium, and I spot a glowing sign that reads “Detective”. I turn right and catch a glimpse of another neon structure that spells out “Valentine Detective Agency”.

_A glowing heart, huh?_

Before opening the door to the building, I turn my head to look at Dogmeat. “You should stay out here, okay boy?” I ask softly, giving him a pat on the head.

As I pull open the door, I see a woman with her back turned to me. “Hello?” I call out hesitantly. She doesn’t seem to hear me, and I catch a mumble of words about “his ties”.

“Something wrong?” I ask, and she finally notices my presence when she nearly jumps out of her skin. “Another stray coming in from the rain” She remarks with a sigh after composing herself. “‘Fraid you’re too late. Office is closed”.

“I know you must be busy, but I won’t take much of your time, miss. It’s important-“ I try to start, but she cuts me off. “You don’t get it. The detective. He’s gone. Missing” She says bitterly, her eyes downcast. “Missing?” My eyes widening.  She lets out another sigh.

“ Nick was working a case. Skinny Malone’s gang had kidnapped a young woman, and he tracked them down to their hideout in Park Street Station. There’s an old Vault down there that they use as a base. I told Nick that he was walking into a trap, but he just smiled and walked out the door like he always does”.

Her face looked sick with worry as she gazed at what I presumed was his desk, and that same face was the one I wore when I feared that Robert had been shot down overseas.

He came back the next week having been awarded the Air Force Cross along with his squad’s medic, Shaun, for saving their crew. He flew them to back to their base after losing an engine.  _I know what I have to do_.

“I’ll go find the detective and bring him back safe and sound, that’s a promise” I assure her as I grab her hands, giving them a comforting squeeze. Her face lights up with surprise.

“You’re going to go now? Alone? But it’s already late!” She protests as I walk towards the door. “Well, if I don’t help him, who will? I’ll be back before you know it” I say, letting the door close behind me as I leave the office. 

I don’t see Dogmeat anywhere, and I assume he’s gone off to sleep for the night.  _I’ll find him later, he seems to be a smart dog_.  I swing by the weapons shop I passed by earlier, and lay my pouch of bottle caps on the owner’s counter. “You’re probably closing up soon, but I have a question: how many knives do you have?”.

With my utility belt filled up from knives of various sizes and my pouch of bottlecaps decently depleted, I descend the rusted escalators of the subway station.

Robert had taken me to a shooting range several times as a form of exposure therapy, reforming new memories with bullet fire in a safer environment as a way to disassociate the sound from his time overseas, and knife throwing classes were taught at the complex. 

He said that all my time in the Power Armor factory, throwing around wrenches and other tools to my coworkers, had prepared me for this skill. I had laughed it off, but now I actually had a practical use for using knives like this.

As I near a doorway leading further into the station, I overhear a raspy man’s voice. “I’m telling ya, joining Skinny Malone’s crew was the best decision we’ve ever made. Look at this place” He says with excitement.

“I still say Malone’s weak. We caught that detective snooping around, and what does he do? Locks him up. Like he ain’t got the balls to just kill him” Another man replies, his voice tinged with annoyance.

_ Oh god, he’s still alive._ _I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to him_.  “Well don’t let his new girl hear that. She’ll start swinging that bat of hers at your face until there ain’t no face left” The first one remarks with a morbid chuckle.

I peek around the threshold of the doorway and glimpse the two men sitting on a bench together against the back wall. I have no way of reaching the subway platforms without killing them, so when they’re not looking, I quickly sneak forward to hide behind one of the columns in the room.  _Robert, please hope that I can do this._

In one motion, I pull out two small knives and hurl them across the room. I know that I’ve hit my targets when I hear choked gurgling, and I wait a few more seconds before glancing around the corner to confirm this. 

I mentally suppress my stomach’s turning at the sight of their blood soaked outfits, and I quickly remove the knives from their throats to clean off the blood for the next unlucky people.

I take a glance at my Pip-Boy, and the time reads as ten minutes until 10pm.  _Maybe everyone will be getting tired... I hope that I don’t run into too many more people. If I used my pistol, it’d draw too much attention to me._

I continue my descent for the Vault down some more stairs before coming upon the station’s subway platform. I crouch behind the railing of the staircase and lift my head up slightly to take in my surroundings.

The coast seemed clear and as I stand up, I hear the sound of a bullet zipping above my head into the linoleum wall behind me.  _God dammit_.  I don’t dare take another glance above the railing after ducking down, but I can hear several men yelling to one another about having seen something.

Instead of staying where I was or running back up the staircase with my tail between my legs, I did something unexpected. The next thing I knew, I was running out from the cover of the staircase and straight towards the nearest gang member. Time seemed to slow down as I threw one of my knives, and I watched it connect with his forehead.

I spin around at the sound of more shouting and see four other men loading up their machine guns. My hand instinctively grabbed four more knives from my utility belt and I threw two from each hand at them.  _It’s their fault for standing in a straight line,_ I think with a smirk when they all go down.  _Wait, how the fuck did I do that?_

When removing the knives from their corpses, one of them tries to call out for help but I silence him with a second knife to the chest.  _Guess I gotta make sure they all die from a single knife wound_.

I walk cautiously down the subway tunnel until I find it blocked by rubble, before switching over to an adjacent tunnel. The rails are broken and mangled from long ago construction work, and I see the shape of the Vault’s airlock emerge in the subterranean electrical lighting.

I unlock the giant gear-shaped doorway with a quick action from my Pip-Boy, and an alarm blares as it slowly disengages it’s locks. Shortly after walking onto the extended walkway, I hear a yawn followed by some cursing. 

“Goddammit, I hate it when they open the door. Why’s that thing so loud?” A man in his undershirt and dress pants groans as he walks out from a nearby room. I prevent him from drawing more goons out from the living quarters with one of my knives, and I continue further into the Vault.

I come upon a long staircase, and as I step carefully and quietly down the stairs, I struggle to calm down my claustrophobia.  _Just like the cryo pods_.  I shake my head to clear the fog of anxiety from it, and I nearly walk into a hallway with two men at the end.

“So, I got a question. Why the hell would anyone build a Vault out of a subway station? This place is like... the opposite of air-tight” One of them posits.

I hear the smack of a hand and a quiet yelp of pain. “Because they weren’t planning to use it, you moron! We used to pull this kind of con all the time back before the war” The other grumbles. A quick throw of two knives dispatches them, and the next door leads to a cave filled with  _more stairs_. 

I eventually reach another room with nowhere to go but down a hole in the floor. I take care not to break my ankles from the fall, and I land in a supply closet. After walking through a few more rooms, I hear a voice echoing from what seemed to be the atrium of the Vault. 

“How ya doin’ in there, Valentine? Feeling hungry? Need a snack?” A man’s voice carries across the large room.  _Valentine? The detective?_

“Keep talkin’, meathead. It’ll give Skinny Malone more time to think about how he’s gonna bum you off” The detective retorts.  _Maybe he can keep this asshole busy while I sneak up there..._

“Don’t give me that crap, Valentine. You know nothin’, you got nothin’” The gang member states dismissively as I creeped across the room. “Really? I saw him writing your name down in that black book of his. ‘Lousy cheating card shark’ I think were his exact words. Then he struck the name across three times” Valentine replied as I got in as close as I could without being seen.

“Three strikes? In the black book? But I never...” The man said with fear, but he never got to finish his sentence. One knife flies into the side of his head and I rushed forward to finish the job by stabbing his neck. I narrowly avoided being splashed with arterial blood as he fell to the ground.

“Hey you! I don’t know who you are, but we got three minutes before they realize muscle-for-brains ain’t coming back from his guard shift. Get this door open!” Valentine yells from inside the locked office. 

I notice a slip of paper sticking out of the dead man’s lapel, and it looks to be the password for a terminal attached to the wall. I type it in, and I hear the whoosh as the door for the room opens. I hurry inside to see the detective lighting a cigarette, and his lighter illuminates his face with it’s soft glow.

Instead of human flesh, he had plastic for skin. You could see the metal parts inside his skull through a tear on the left side of his face, and his skeletal right hand was stripped clean of it’s synthetic covering. 

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario. Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?” He states with a chuckle before taking a long drag from his cigarette. I  remove my sunglasses and rub my eyes with the back of my hand. 

_Am I dreaming? Is the detective that I’ve been looking for... really a robot?_ He sees my bewildered expression and lets out an irritated sigh. 

“Look, I know the skin and metal parts aren’t comforting, but it’s not important right now” He asserts as he closes the gap between us in two short steps, his body several inches taller than mine as he looks down into my eyes. “The only thing that matters is why you went to all this trouble to cut me lose”. 

“My... my son Shaun is missing. He was kidnapped, b-but I don’t know who took him, or where they went” I stammer, intimidated by his bright golden eyes. “A missing kid, huh? Well, you came to the right man... if not the right place” He murmurs thoughtfully as he takes another drag. 

“I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn’t kidnapped. She’s Skinny Malone’s new flame, and she’s got a mean streak” He states with a groan, and he rubs his neck at the mentioning of her “mean streak”.

“Anyway, you got troubles and I’m glad to help. But now ain’t the time. Let’s blow this joint, then we’ll talk” He finishes his cigarette, placing the stub into an overflowing ashtray on the nearby desk. I follow his lead out of the room and towards a set of stairs. 

“Malone’s crew here used to be small time, muscled out of the old neighborhood by bigger players. Until they found this place” The detective remarks as we lightly jog down the steps. “Don’t know what happened to the previous owners, but they’re not exactly around to charge rent. An empty Vault. Perfect hideout”. 

As we reach the end of the staircase, he holds up a closed fist and crouches down. “ Hold up! I hear some of them coming” He whispers. We peek around the corner, and see four men waltzing up into the atrium that we were just in.

“There they are. How do you want to play this?” He inquiries, and it only takes that question for my adrenaline to decide on the answer. “Stand back” I state quietly as I step closer to the room.  _One of them is really far across the room, but if I throw it just right..._

I earn a gasp from the detective as I throw knives into the necks of three of them, and I unsheathe one of the balanced throwing knives to aim at the farthest man. It thankfully finds it mark, and I go to retrieve all the knives from their quarries.

“Quiet but deadly, huh? Never seen someone toss knives like that before, but it gets the job done. Too bad for whoever cleans up the floors” He comments, glancing at the copious amounts of blood coming from the dead bodies.

We return to the Vault’s labyrinthine hallways after crossing the atrium, and as we turn a corner, a locked door blocks our path. He steps forward to remove the paneling over the door opening mechanism.

“Let me see if I can get it open...” He says with a rearranging of some wires. “There we are. Hell of a lot easier to do when the lock isn’t on the other side” The door sliding open as a result of his handiwork, and I hear a sudden grunt of exertion. 

Without a second thought, I heave Valentine back by his trenchcoat collar and he narrowly avoids taking a baseball bat to the face. “You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’, buddy!” I quip as I rip the wooden weapon from the shocked gangster’s grasp and smash it into his face. 

“Home run!” I yell, and he’s out like a light along with a few of his teeth. “Thanks, I owe you another one” The detective whistles as I let the bat clatter to the ground. “Don’t mention it” I reply with a deep breath, and we continue our quick pace through the underground complex.

“More stairs? Who built this damn Vault, a fitness instructor?” Valentine remarks as we ascend yet another staircase. A laugh erupts from my throat, and it affects me so badly that I have to lean against the stair’s railing for support. He looks back at me with a raised eyebrow and something resembling concern on his face. 

“I didn’t know I was that much of a comedian” He states confusedly as I struggle to get my breathing under control. “Don’t worry about it, I just haven’t had a good laugh in a while is all” I say with a wipe of my eyes from under my sunglasses, and I resume climbing up the steps. “If you say so” He replies, unconvinced.

“Anyway, Skinny Malone and the rest of his boys are sure to be waiting for us, somewhere” Valentine starts, waiting for me at the top of the stairs. “It might be late, but I wouldn’t put it past his goons to have sounded the alarm and woken him up”.

He lets out a sigh at the sight of the door in front of us. “Another locked door. Shouldn’t be too hard” His fingers working deftly to adjust the wiring.

“His name’s, uh, ironic, but don’t let that fool you. He’s dangerous” He adds as he replaces the paneling back to it’s original position. “I hear big, fat footsteps on the other side. Once we step through this door, get ready for anything”.

“Nicky? What’re you doin’?” An accented voice accuses us as soon as the door opens. Four people stand between us and the Vault’s airlock, trapping us in. The man in the tuxedo points his tommy gun around for emphasis as he speaks: “You come into my house, and kill my men. You have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?”. 

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your two-timing dame, Skinny. You ought to tell her to write home more often” My companion snaps with annoyance. 

“Awww... poor little Valentine. Ashamed you got beat up by a girl? I’ll just run back home to daddy, shall I?” The woman in the blue-gray dress sneers, her teeth gleaming in a mocking grin. 

I narrow my eyes.  _He was just trying to help you, bitch_. “And I ain’t lettin’ some private dick shut us down now that I finally got a good thing goin’!” Skinny Malone yells, his finger curling around the trigger of his submachine gun.

 _God, how many times do I have to do this?_ I remove my sunglasses and hold my hand out: “Wait! Darla, listen to me”. I gaze right into her eyes as I take a step forward. “You have a home to go back to. You don’t want to throw your life away with these thugs” I implore of her, hating my saccharine manipulating.

A few moments pass, and I fear that I’ve doomed us. 

“I... I... You’re right! What am I doing? I’ve gotten all mixed up!” She stutters, her eyes wide in horror. 

Her baseball bat drops to the floor with a clang, and she turns around to walk out of the Vault. “Darla, wh-where are you goin’?” Malone asks, his face filled with panic.

“Home, Skinny! Where I should have been all this time. This is goodbye for us” She insists, her hair whipping around as she leaves through the airlock.

“Oh, come on, Nicky! You cost me my men, now you and your friend cost me my girl?” The man’s voice rising in anger as he turns to face us again.  _Why’d I have to get rid of the only person in the room without a gun?_

“My friend here just did you a favor, Skinny. You always did have bad taste in women” He replies sharply, and I feel my stomach drop.  _That’s not helping!_ “Now that she’s not around to feed that temper of yours, maybe you’ll see sense and let us walk? You still owe me for two weeks in the hole”.

“You smug, overconfident ass... Agh!” Skinny yells, and his voice lowers to a menacing tone.  _Oh no_.  “All right, you get to the count of ten! I still see your face after that, I’m gunning both of you down!”. 

I don’t remember starting to run, and it isn’t until we’re out of the Vault and sprinting down the subway tunnel that I realize I’m gripping the detective’s metal hand in my own. When I turn my head to apologize, I don’t see the detective’s plastic face, but Robert’s.

_“We gotta get to the Vault!”_ I remember his mouth yelling as I pulled him behind me. I feel my hand let go and I whisper an “I’m sorry”, my voice distant and detached. I briefly glimpse the man’s face furrowing with confusion, but my head turns around to focus on running.

It’s not until we reach outside the station that I hear the detective say something. “Ah, look at that Commonwealth sky. Never thought anything so naturally ominous could end up looking so inviting...” He says with a relieved sigh.  _The sky’s always inviting, what the hell do you mean ‘ominous’?_

“Thanks for getting me out, by the way. How did you know where to find me, anyway? Not many people knew where I went...” The man adds, his eyes curious.

“Your secretary, Ellie. She told me where you were” I reply as I place my sunglasses inside my utility belt for safekeeping. “She did? I should give her a raise” He replies with a chuckle.

“Now, you mentioned something about your son, Shaun, and how he went missing. I want you to come to my office in Diamond City. Give me all the details. Besides, I think you’ve earned a chance to sit down and clear your head” He suggests, and I nod my head in agreement. 

“Well, I’ll let you lead the way, detective” I offer. “Please, just call me Nick, Miss...?” He says with an amused roll of his eyes before realizing he doesn’t know my name.  _My name is Orion Fitzgerald_. “It’s Andie, Andie Fitzgerald” I say with a fake smile.

“Ellie? Are you here?” Nick calls out, and I hear footsteps approaching from farther in the room. “Oh god, it’s really you!” The secretary runs up, grappling him into a tight hug that he amusedly returns with a pat of her back. “Well, it’s hard to mistake this mug for anyone else” He quips, and she pulls his hat down over his face. 

“You were gone for two weeks, Nick! I was worried sick!” She says, her voice breaking into laughter. “You keep laughing at death, some day death’s going to laugh back”. 

I smile at their happy reunion, before a wave of fatigue hits my body and I sink to the floor like a rock. “Whoa there! Are you okay?” Nick asks, grabbing my shoulder after he rushes over. 

“It’s past midnight... so it’s been three days since I buried my husband. It’s also been three days since I last slept, I think? I was scared I would wake up in the Vault again...” I say with squinted eyes as I slowly calculate. “I think my adrenaline rush finally crashed”. 

Ellie and Nick exchange similar concerned glances with each other.

“Oh, don’t worry. I did worse when I was in college working on my senior final project! I had to make-” I chuckle, remembering Robert organizing his camera film negatives for the newspaper as I sat nearby programming my project’s coding, but I stop at their slack-jawed expressions. 

“How old  _are_ you? Are you Pre-War?” Valentine’s yellow eyes wide. “Yup! I’m 238 years old chronologically, but 28 biologically; I did the math” I state with a morbid laugh, running a hand through my hair. 

And I keep laughing, and laughing.  I couldn’t stop. 

“I was frozen.. for 210 years! My infant son was kidnapped _after_ my husband was shot... and I unfroze who knows how long later! He could be dead, and I might never see him again!” I cackle, putting my face in my hands when tears start running down my face. 

I sit like there for a few moments, trying to calm my nerves. “I’m sorry, none of this funny, but everything has... has....” I try to apologize after my breathing evens out, but the world turns black as my brain shut downs from exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The day that Orion woke up from the Vault is actually a Sunday, so the timeline would be:
> 
> Sunday: buries Robert and neighbors  
> Monday: helps the Minutemen  
> Tuesday: travels to Diamond City and Vault 114  
> Wednesday: passes out from exhaustion after saving Nick
> 
> the bit with Orion thinking Nick’s weird for saying the sky is ominous is because he doesn’t know about radstorms
> 
> VATS being the Matrix is great and I love it; Charisma checks will just be Orion taking off his Anti Anxiety and Bright Lights sunglasses (his light blue eyes are like mine, super sensitive to the sun) to dazzle the person with Mind Control
> 
> also my favorite meme reference with Orion is the “tell me what you have!” “a knife!” one


	3. Man Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10,553 words... HOW DID I DO THIS??
> 
> Finishing such a long chapter is honestly a birthday gift to myself; I turn 20 today! It's also been four weeks since I started testosterone!
> 
> A content warning for this chapter: when Orion meets a certain character, he gets called homophobic slurs!

My eyes flutter open with a flinch of my body. _Where... where am I?_ Taking in my surroundings, I realize that I’m lying in a bed and my hands are shakily grasping a soft blanket draped over me.

After releasing my death grip on the covers to sit up against the bed frame, I find Robert’s bomber jacket and my backpack hanging off a nearby chair.

I grab the coat to hold against my chest, and I take a few deep breaths to steady my rapid heartbeat. My fingers start automatically brushing over the jacket’s smooth leather as I close my eyes.

_Relax... Everything’s going to be okay. You’re not in the Vault anymore. Relax._

“Come on, Nicky. I’m just asking for your opinion” I hear a familiar voice plead. “It’d be a great quote!”. I discover my shoes on the floor nearby, and I pull my backpack over my shoulder as I listen to their conversation. “She’s my client, Piper. Why don’t you learn not to snoop on a woman’s private affairs?” Nick replies defensively.

 _This ‘woman’ thing is gonna be a real drag..._ I think as I attach my utility belt to my waist and make my way down some steps. “She saved your life, Nicky, and she’s a Pre-War Vaultie to boot! How could I _not_ want to talk to her? It’s setting off my reporter’s curiosity like nobody’s business!” Piper replies excitedly.

“Did you know that she hasn’t slept since she got out? She was up for three days straight! So, could you please just- oh, you’re awake!” His tone rising in volume before tapering off at the sight of me creeping slowly into the room.

“Well, well. Speak of the devil...” Piper says deviously, and Nick shoots her a sharp look. “How are you feeling?” His gaze softening when he looks at me again.

I freeze like a deer in the headlights. “Better, I think... Uh, how long was I out? What day is it?” I respond awkwardly, noticing that I probably need a shower when I push a strand of hair behind my ear.

_I still don’t know what’s up with my body; why isn’t my hair a wig anymore?_

_Why do I have breasts when I’d had them removed?_

_What happened while I was in the Vault?_

_Maybe the people who took Shaun are responsible..._

“Andie?” I hear Nick ask, realizing I’ve been zoning out as I glance up. “Yeah?” My eyebrows raising. “It’s Friday morning now? You wanted to know what day of the week it was?” His face wrinkled with concern. “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking” I apologize quietly, hating myself for sleeping almost two days.

“Could we discuss my son’s kidnapping as soon as possible? I don’t want to waste any more time” I add with some urgency. “Sure, Piper was _just leaving_ ” Nick suggests with a pointed glance at the reporter. “Ellie should be back any minute with some lunch, too”.

“Fine, fine” The reporter concedes, but not before catching a glimpse of my eyes. _Here it goes..._ “Wow, your blue eyes are _so_ pretty! I’ve never seen a color like that before!” She ogles while getting nearer for a closer look, and I resist the urge to smack her away. “Yeah, I’ve gotten that a lot...” I reply with false enthusiasm, hoping Nick saves me from this.

“Piper...” He warns in a low tone, and I hold in a sigh of relief when she backs away. “Okay, I’m leaving!” She yells, turning around to leave through the building’s door, narrowly avoiding Ellie as she walks in. “I’ll get that article from you someday, Blue!”.

" _Blue_? Really?” I say with a roll of my eyes. “She has to give everyone a nickname” He chuckles, before motioning to an armchair in front of his desk. _Well, at least it’s gender neutral_. “Take a seat, make yourself comfortable”.

“I never got to thank you, Andie. You saved Nick, this agency, _and_ my job” Ellie says after offering me a glass of water, her voice heavy with appreciation. “I was happy to do it” I reply after finishing off the drink.

 _Guess I shouldn’t tell them I haven’t eaten consistently in a few days either. I don’t need any more pity. I’ve mainly been snacking on Pre-War food, because it was hard to trust anything else._ “You know, if you’re looking for work, and don’t mind putting on the detective hat, Nick sure could use a new partner...” She suggests with a sly raise of her eyebrows.

“Whoa. One case at a time, Ellie. Our new friend needs our help, first” Nick informs her as he takes a seat behind his desk. “When you’re trying to find someone who’s gone missing, the devil is in the details” He states as Ellie comes up behind him with a pencil and clipboard for taking notes. “Tell me everything you can, no matter how... painful it might be” The detective adds more gently.

“Well, as you know already, I was in a Vault. It was Vault 111. They herded us into “decontamination chambers” and cryogenically froze us” I reply neutrally, trying to make sure I don’t suffocate under any negative emotions this time.

“So you really were on ice, huh? Most importantly, being sealed up underground is a lot of obstacles to get through just to take one person” Nick posits, his eyes squinting as he thinks. “What else can you tell me?”.

“My husband was... murdered because he was trying to keep them from taking Shaun. You know that already too” I say, my grief threatening to swallow me whole again.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything more” Ellie reassures me. “So we’re talking about a group of cold-hearted killers, but they waited until something went wrong to resort to violence” He further postulates.

“I also remember there being a man and a woman. They didn’t say much, but I remember they called me ‘the backup’” I add after some further thinking. “A small team, professionals. The kind that know to keep their lips tight when they’re on the job. Not sure what the ‘backup’ could mean though...” Nick surmises as he cups his chin with his right hand.

“Shaun’s only two months old. Why would anyone take him?” I ask to no one in particular, my fingers curling together into a fist. “A good question. Someone would be taking on all of his care, and a baby needs a lot of it” Nick agrees, rising to his feet with an unlit cigarette in his fingers.

He lights it, and inhales some of it’s smoke. “That confirms it. This isn’t a random kidnapping. Whoever took your kid had an agenda” He states as he starts slowly pacing the room.

“Hmm... There’s a lot of groups in the Commonwealth that take people. Raiders, Super Mutants, the Gunners, and of course, there’s the Institute”.

“Do you think the Institute could be responsible?” I question. “Well, they’re the boogeyman of the Commonwealth. Something goes wrong, everyone blames them” Nick answers, the cigarette’s smoke leaving a trail as he moves his hand around.

“Easy to see why. Those early model synths of theirs strip whole towns for parts, killing everything in their way. And then you got the newer models, good as human, that infiltrate cities and pull strings from the shadows”.

Another drag of his cigarette.

“Worst of all, no one knows why they do it, what their plan is, or where they are. Not even me, and I’m a synth myself. A discarded prototype, anyway”. My ears perk up at the term ‘synth’. “So you’re a synth? I never did get the official ‘Apocalypse 101: Terms You Need to Know’ guide” I joke.

“Synth is short for ‘synthetic human’, whether they look as obvious as me or hidden beneath flesh and blood” He says with a chuckle, finishing off his cigarette and fishing out another one. “And what do you mean by ‘discarded prototype’?” I ask tentatively.

“Never seen any other synth like myself. The older ones are dumb as rocks and all metal, but the newer ones are almost human. I’m somewhere in between” He states while gesturing his cigarette towards his body. _Interesting. Technology sure did advance while I was in the Vault. When I get Shaun back, I’ll enjoy learning all I can about everything._

“Either way, I need to find Shaun” I assert, trying to steer the conversation back to the original topic. “You’re right, this speculation is getting us off track. Let’s focus on what you saw. What did these kidnappers look like?” He agrees, pushing another question.

“One of them came right up the glass of my cryo pod. Bald head, scar across his left eye” I state with a finger slashing across the corresponding side of my face.

“Wait, it couldn’t be... You didn’t hear the name ‘Kellogg’ at all, did you?” Nick asks, his face lighting up with surprise. “Who is he?” I demand as Nick inspires from his cigarette.

“Hmm... it’s way too big of a coincidence. Ellie, what notes do we have about cases involving Kellogg?” He says deep in thought, before turning to Ellie.

She goes to a filing cabinet in the back of the room and shuffles through it for a few moments before pulling out a yellowed folder labelled with a K.

“The description matches. Bald head. Scar. Reputation for dangerous mercenary work, but no one knows who his employer is” Ellie says after scanning through it’s contents.

“He bought a house here in town, right? And he had a kid with him, didn’t he?” Nick questions after another drag. “Yeah, that’s right. The house in the abandoned West Stands. The boy with him was around ten years old” She answers.

I feel my heart sink in my chest. _I really hope I wasn’t refrozen for ten years..._ “They both vanished a while back, if I’m remembering right, but that house is still there...” Nick reminisces before getting to his feet. “Let’s you and I take a walk over to Kellogg’s last known address. See if we can snoop out where he went”.

Ellie’s face turns into a worried frown. “Security doesn’t really go to that part of town, so you two should be careful” She frets, but Nick gives her a pat on the shoulder. “I always am....” He tells her, and I follow his lead outside the office after slipping on my sunglasses.

After a few moments of walking, Nick speaks up. “I didn’t want Ellie to hear this, but I think you should know. Everything I dug up about Kellogg before his disappearance is bad news” He warns as we walk towards the west side of the stadium.

“He’s more than just a mercenary. He’s a professional. Quick, clean, thorough. Has no enemies, because they’re all dead... Except you”. We walk up a ramp towards a solitary building at the end of the platform.

“But nine to one odds says he’s our man. It’s more than just you identifying his distinguishing features. The MO is all him as well. Leading a small team to kidnap a baby, and leaving one of the parents alive for later? Not many mercs in the Commonwealth can pull that off” He adds and we come to a stop in front of the small house.

“Here we are. Keep an eye out, will ya? Let’s see if I can get this thing open” He falls to one knee as he tries to lockpick the door. “That’s one heck of a lock... Got something to hide, Kellogg?”.

“You wanna give it a try?” Nick asks after a minute of trying to unlock it. “Oh, I don’t think I can if you can’t. I’m still a newbie at the whole lockpicking thing” I say with a sheepish laugh.

“Guess we’ll need to find the key. You see that platform in the distance? Near the city entrance? That’s the elevator to the Mayor’s office. Why don’t you go ask around there?” He suggests with a point at the other side of the stadium. “I’ll stay here and see if I can jimmy this lock”.

I groan when I recognize her voice as the lift raises me higher and higher: “Why doesn’t the mayor come out of his office, huh? He afraid of talking to the press? I bet if I said I was with the Institute, he’d come running.”

 _I’m going to get this damn key and get the hell out._ When I lurch to a stop, the reporter is too deep in conversation with a receptionist to notice me slipping behind them.

I walk down a short hallway after spotting McDonough enter a room, and I gently knock my knuckles against the wall as I follow him in. “Ah, yes. I remember you. Our new arrival! I wish I was in your shoes getting to see our glorious city for the first time. How can I help you?” He says with delight, and I have to suppress my stomach’s melodramatic nausea at his over-sincerity.

“I’m looking for a key to a house in the city. I assume the mayor’s office has a copy?” I reply nonchalantly. “Well, we don’t have _every_ key in the city. Where would we put them all?” He says with a hearty laugh, and I smile weakly to indulge his awful joke.

“Besides, every citizen in my city has a right to their privacy. Now, if we did have a key, only the owner can ask for it. That’s my final word” The man adds suddenly, his voice guarded.

Before he can finish his sentence, I’m already lifting my sunglasses up to rest on my head. “Please, Mayor McDonough. This man, Kellogg, kidnapped my son. I need to find him. He’s the only family I have left” I implore of the mayor, forcing my voice to be warped with grief. _It’s the truth, it’s not like I’m lying. He just needs a little extra nudge._

“Oh, of course... I-I will do everything in my power to help you overcome this horrible personal tragedy” He stutters as he goes over to a cabinet. “I remember Mr. Kellogg. Didn’t like him myself. Paranoid. Never talked to anyone. I doubt you’ll find him” McDonough murmurs as he looks through the assortment of keys.

“But I insist you take the key to his old house. It’s been abandoned, though. I’m afraid this whole thing might be fruitless” He stresses, and I can’t help but feel suspicious at his dead-horse beating.

“I appreciate your concern. Thanks for the help!” I say cheerily, my face wiping into a clean slate when I turn my back. Piper is nowhere to be seen, and I wave awkwardly at the receptionist as I walk past.

As the lift carries me back down into the city, I gaze at the old silver key in my hand. _Let’s see what Nick and I can find in your house, you motherfucker._

As I make my way through the marketplace towards Kellogg’s house, my feet stop at the sound of a man yelling about “swatters”. I walk towards the man’s shop to find him in a full baseball uniform toting a wooden bat, and I spot a spare baseball cap lying on a shelf.

_Robert was going to buy me one when we went to the World Series game later that day..._

“Hey, mister! How much for the hat?” I exclaim, grabbing his attention from yelling at people as they pass by. “You’ll be looking at about 24 caps” The man states, and I’ve already whipped out my pouch of bottlecaps to place the amount in his hands.

“Thanks” I reply quickly, grabbing it off the shelf with a swift motion and continuing back to Nick before the man can say a word. _Robert would say I look cute in it..._ I think with a small smile as I smooth my hair back to place it on my head.

“Got the key?” Nick says while leaning beside the front door, finishing off his cigarette. He gives a curious look at my new hat. “You get yourself a souvenir from Moe’s?” He adds, and I nod. “I needed something to keep my hair out of my face” I reply, my finger compulsively tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“All right. Let’s head in. You do the honors”. A sparse room welcomes our entry into the small house, and a small loft is what comprises the second floor. “Let’s take a look around. Kellogg must have left something behind” He encourages, and we get to work combing the room. He takes the main floor while I climb the ladder to the makeshift bedroom.

“Place seem small to you? Figured a guy like Kellogg would think big...” He yells out after I reach the top. Nothing sticks out to me until I notice a pair of handcuffs and a roll of duct tape.

I hesitantly pick up the binding material to place inside my bag for later, but not before worrying about what those two things could have been used for. “Andie? I think you should come check this out” I hear Nick yell, and I make my way down the ladder.

He’s standing behind the desk near the back of the room, and he points underneath it to a red button when I get closer. Before he can say anything, I press it.

His mouth opens to chastise me, but we see a section of wall slide open across from us. “Well... that’s one way to hide a room” The detective says with a whistle.

We take a step inside to see shelves lining one wall of the room covered with a wide array of supplies: ammunition, weapons, food, and drinks. I unzip a military duffle bag to find a rifle with a simple leather sling. _The leather color matches my jacket, so I think this is should be mine now. I think that Preston owns a rifle. Maybe I can ask him for some tips._

With a smile, I pull the sling over my shoulder and use one hand to adjust the strap. “Found a shiny new toy?” Nick chuckles as I shove some boxes of .50 caliber bullets into my backpack.

“I can’t always use my knives and pistol, I gotta be prepared” I grin as I grab two molotov cocktails to add to my bag.

“And it’s not like Kellogg’s been here in a while, so this stuff is free for the taking”. I fit as much of his weaponry and ammo as I can into my backpack. _I could also sell some of this stuff later._

Nick picks up a cigar stub from an ashtray. “‘San Francisco Sunlights’. Interesting brand, but it won’t lead us anywhere on its own” He muses before snapping his fingers.

“There is someone I know. A kind of specialist. Always goes his own way, but I can get him here” His trench coat flapping as he suddenly turns to face me.

“Who’s this friend of yours, Nick?” Skepticism present in my voice. “Worked with him a few times, but he only likes certain people. Got a feeling you’ll get on, though” He continues vaguely. “You’ll meet soon enough. Gotta send out the signal. It’s a special frequency, so you won’t hear it, but he will”.

After inserting two fingers into his mouth, he does what I imagine is a high-pitched whistle. “Okay, I called him. Let’s wait outside”.

He swings the door open, and Dogmeat greets us with a bark. “Ah, there he is. Prompt, as always” Nick says warmly, giving him a scratch behind the ears. “I was wondering where you went, boy” My voice colored with surprise.

 _I wonder what he was up to after I went searching for Nick._ “Have you two met before?” He asks, and Dogmeat woofs in response before I can say anything.

“Yeah, we met outside Concord” I laugh. “Ready to get to work, Dogmeat?” Nick questions, and his tail begins wagging furiously. “Go ahead, let him sniff that cigar. Let’s see if he can find our man” He suggests, and I hold the stub up to Dogmeat’s snout. After hearing a few sniffs, I watch him put his nose to the ground.

“Before you head out... I know this is personal business. If you have to face Kellogg on your own, just say so” Nick asks suddenly, his voice quiet.

“If Kellogg really is the one who kidnapped your son, then he’s dangerous, but so are you. I’ve seen how you use knives. You don’t need to be afraid of him, or anything else the Commonwealth throws at you”. I glance up to look into his eyes.

“I want you with me on this, Nick. I don’t think I can do this alone” I determine after a moment of thinking, placing a hand on his shoulder. “All right. Let’s get that bastard. This is your show from here on out, okay? You say jump, I’ll ask how high” He smiles, and I let out a chuckle at his joke.

Dogmeat whines and runs off a few feet in front of us before turning around to look behind him. “Okay, okay! We’re coming, Dogmeat” I say with an exasperated sigh before we run off after him.

After encountering numerous amounts of hostile wildlife and ghouls, we arrived at Fort Hagen. “Is this the place? Is he in here, boy?” I prompt, and the dog growls in reply.

“I knew Dogmeat would sniff our man out. You and I can take it from here to give our four-legged friend a break” Nick comments, and we circle around the building to search for a way in.

The buzzing of a turret alerts us to its presence on the roof, and we quickly press our backs against the building’s walls to avoid being shot.

 _I knew you would come in handy._ I remove the rifle from my back and position the stock against my shoulder, glancing down the sights to aim the barrel at the turret.

One shot into the machine rewards me with an explosion of fire and shrapnel that I have to duck to avoid. We happen upon a scaffolding ramp that leads onto the roof, and I use the rifle to blow up the several other turrets stationed there.

“I think I found our way in” Nick gestures towards two heavy metal doors. He pulls one of the doors open to reveal a ladder leading into a small room. “I’ll go down first to make sure it’s safe” He suggests, going down the ladder’s rungs before I have a chance to argue.

After a few moments of looking around, he motions for me to join him. Nick takes the lead as we sneak through one of the nearby rooms, and we’re greeted with monotonous speech that raises the hair on my neck.

“Kellogg’s secure facility, infiltrated. Termination, required” Someone- no, some _thing_ says. The blast of a laser shoots out from the darkness of the next room, and it initiates several more to follow its path.

Nick’s face flashes with concern as he uses his arm to move me behind him, and we take cover against a wall as our attackers grow closer. “I’m gonna try something, let’s hope it works” I announce with a sigh, and Nick fails to grab me before I round the corner.

I spot five robotic men approaching from across the room, and time freezes as I aim my rifle to shoot three of them in the head. They fall to the ground as I shoot the fourth one at point-blank in the chest. Before I can take down the last one remaining, I realize that they’re wielding a baton.

“Initiate Directive Sigma Omicron. Protect Kellogg” The robot barks, tackling me against a wall. They hold a plastic forearm against my neck as they wind their arm back to strike me.

Before they can do so, a bullet whizzes through the left side of their skull. Their eyes flicker out as they fall to the floor, and I let out a shaky breath as I watch Nick hurry over to me.

“Can you _please_ give me more of a heads up before you try something rash?” He says with a look of disapproval as he lends me a supporting hand. “I’ll try, Nick” I say with a small laugh.

After sneaking through the ruins of old offices and workrooms, we happen upon an elevator. We hesitantly walk inside, and the PA voice announces our destination with a garbled “bottom floor”.

A long maintenance hallway filled with pipework ends with another turret flanked by two synths. My rifle makes short work of all three of them, and we descend a concrete staircase.

“If it isn’t my old friend, the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler” A voice on the intercom system states, and my blood begins to boil when I realize who it is. Nick holds my shoulder back as I swing open a closed door, and an electrical trap springs to life above the threshold.

As we wait for the electricity to stop, I have to suppress the rage starting to build up. _Save it for when you find him._ Through the security gate, we step down another set of stairs. A turret nearly shoots my head off as we turn a corner, and I wait until it has to cool down it’s barrel before I blow it up.

Two steel doors greet us after another security gate, and Kellogg’s voice returns, now oozing with a threat: “Sorry your house has been a wreck for two hundred years. But I don’t need a roommate. Leave”.

We press on into a command center, and more stairs await us. “Never expected you to come knocking on my door. Gave you 50/50 odds of making it to Diamond City. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky” Kellogg remarks, and I tighten my grip on my rifle. Three synths are present in the hallway ahead, and Nick has to help me this time in taking an armored one down.

Traveling down a ruined hallway with the ceiling caved in at some parts, a large darkened room sits at our left. I can see something glowing inside it, but a metal fence keeps us from entering.

Nick and I happen upon a smaller hallway at turn, and we hear a sigh over the intercom. “Look, you’re pissed off. I get it. But whatever you hope to accomplish in here? It’s not going to go your way” Kellogg warns.

After some twists and turns filled with more synths and turrets, we come upon another maintenance tunnel. “You’ve got guts and determination, and that’s admirable. But you are in over your head in ways you can’t possibly comprehend” He warns again. Three synths advance towards at from the end of the tunnel in response.

Another one of them is armored, and it takes several bullets to the head before collapsing to the ground. “It’s not too late. Stop. Turn around and leave. You have that option, and not a lot of people can say that” Kellogg reminds us, and my face curls into a grimace. _Never._

Ruined living quarters greet us at the top of a set of stairs, and we make our way into a reception area. A door with two American flags on either side beckons us to open it, and Nick does so cautiously.

We enter a room with a bed and ruined furniture, and another heavy exhale comes from the intercom. “Okay, you made it. I’m just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let’s talk” Kellogg proposes, and I nearly growl in anticipation.

Nick watches silently as I pull out one of my balanced throwing knives and a serrated blade from my utility belt to shove into my jacket pockets along with a magazine of bullets.

I ensure that my rifle is fully reloaded before sliding it onto my back again, and I kick open the door in front of us. The next opens automatically before we near it, and we’re brought to the large darkened room from earlier.

“And there she is. The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth” Kellogg states as he appears from behind a tall desk, the lights clanging as they switch on overhead. “Where is my son?” I snarl.

He makes a sound that resembles both a laugh and cough. “Lady, I’m just a puppet like you. My stage is a little bigger, that’s all” Kellogg states coolly. My teeth clench as I glimpse three synths spread out among the rows of desks.

 _Don’t lose your shit just yet_. “Shaun’s a good kid. He may not be quite a baby anymore, but he’s doing great. Only... he’s not here. He’s with the people pulling the strings. What’s the cliche? ‘So close but so far away’? That’s Shaun” He adds with a smirk, and my finger is _this_ close to pulling the trigger.

“He’s with the Institute? Well I’ll find him, no matter where he is. _Nothing_ will stop me. Not you, or anybody else” I retort, taking a step closer. “God, you’re persistent. I’ll give you credit. It’s the way a parent should act. The way I’d be acting if I were in your place, I like to think. Even if it is useless” He responds with a roll of his eyes.

“Haven’t you been listening? You don’t find the Institute. The Institute finds you. When you open the closet, it’s just a closet. You can never find the monster that hides inside. Not until it jumps out at you”. The synths move closer.

I catch the metallic glint of his pistol as he retrieves it from his holster. “But I think we’ve been talking long enough. We both know how this has to end. So, you ready?”. I remove my sunglasses to look him dead in the eyes.

“In the distant future, when I finally die, I only hope I go to hell so I can kill you all over again, you piece of shit” I spit, and I lunge at him as I draw my knife from my pocket. He jumps out of reach, and I watch as he activates a button on a small rectangular object.

His body disappears like smoke, and a pistol-toting synth emerges from behind a nearby desk. _What the fuck?_ As I whip my rifle off my back to shoot it, I hear a sudden clicking sound. “Grenade!” Nick shouts, and he yanks me back behind a table.

A small explosion sends a shock through our crouching bodies, and I steal a glance over to the remains of the synth’s body. _Did he just use it as bait?_

I don’t have to time to ponder his tactics as we hear another clicking sound and run to duck behind another desk several feet away. The last two synths make their way across the room as I stick my head out from our hiding place, and my rifle shoots cleanly through both of their heads. I pull out the two molotov cocktails from my backpack, and I raise my eyebrows at Nick.

Without a word, he hands me his lighter and I set them alight. I throw them at opposite sides of the room, and I lead Nick to the metal fencing at one side of the room.

 _I hope I didn’t trap ourselves in here_. _But if my plan works... we should see Kellogg coming since he has only one place to go. He also can’t throw around grenades when alcohol’s coating the ground._

The flames accelerate a little too quickly, and it doesn’t help that centuries old paperwork is adding to the fuel. The air gets hazy from the smoke, but Kellogg’s silhouette eventually comes into view.

The butt of his pistol is aimed at Nick, and before I can think, I leap in front of the detective and reach my hands up to grab it. That action ignites searing hot pain across my palms as they come into contact with burning hot metal. _Did he heat up his gun on the flames?_

“You bastard!” I cry out, surprising the man as I wrench the gun from his hands and whip it across his face instead. His stunned face lets out a wheeze as his back lands on the ground, and I slam the weapon across his face several more times before plunging my knife into his chest. He had armor on, but not for against knives.

“You don’t get any final words” I growl, and I kill him with my second knife to his heart. After watching his body for any signs of movement, I notice a piece of metal sticking out of his head. _A souvenir, I guess.._ I say to myself as I impulsively pocket it and retrieve my knives.

“Let’s go” I announce quietly as I walk towards the door we entered from, ignoring the increasing inferno around us.

After taking a seat on the edge of the bed in the small room, I stare vacantly at the floor underneath my feet. I feel the bed shift as Nick sits down next to me, and he grimaces as he delicately holds my hands in his.

“We need to patch these up, they’re looking like second degree burns” He says softly, and I sigh. “I have some purified water and bandages in my backpack” I inform him as I shrug it off my shoulders.

“It’s my fault that you got injured, so this is the least I can do” Nick murmurs. He fetches the items from my pack, and I try not to yell from the pain as he slowly pours water over the burns.

As he gently wraps my hands in soft gauze, I feel tears form in my eyes. “Am I hurting you?” He asks, stopping his progress on finishing up my right hand. “No, it’s not that” I respond.

“Well, I have a question. With everything that’s happened with you, your family... It’s a hell of a lot for someone to process. How are you holding up in that regard? Are you doing alright?” Nick inquiries, his voice as gentle as a warm blanket.

“Well, it’s just...” I start, not really knowing how to say it. “You can tell me anything, you know” Nick suggests quietly as he finishes covering my hand.

“I just wish that I could click my heels three times and be transported out of Oz but...” A sigh rattles from my chest. “But Kansas doesn’t exist anymore?” He finishes, and my eyes widen.

“You know about that movie?” I question, and he nods his head. “I’m a lot older than I look, and I look pretty old as is with this battered synth body” He chuckles.

“It’s not so much that I miss the world as it used to be... I just... I miss my husband, Nick” My voice almost a whisper.

He’s quiet for a few moments. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you deeply care about, Andie” Nick responds solemnly, a distant look in his eyes as his gaze meets mine. “It’s a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone”. His gaze drifts to the floor, and we sit there in silence.

When he focuses on me again, his eyes are full of determination. “That’s a topic for another time though, because right now, I want us to keep moving forward in finding your son” He states, using a steady hand to help me stand.

“Even if Shaun really is on the inside, I promise we’ll find a way to get to him”. Even with those uplifting words, I can still feel my heart sink at the reality of it all.

“Hey, chin up. I know the night just got darker, but it won’t last forever” Nick says, one of his hands gently cupping my chin.

I look upwards and see his face awash in a warm smile. Letting his optimism relax me, my face reciprocates the expression. “Now, we should probably get out of here before the whole building catches fire” Nick proposes.

Before we even open an emergency exit leading out of Fort Hagen, we notice a loud humming that practically shakes the building. With a hesitant peek through the door, my knees almost buckle in shock.

An enormous airship flying in from the southwest dominates the late afternoon sky, and Nick has to look over my shoulder to see it.

“People of the Commonwealth, do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are the Brotherhood of Steel” A voice commands over a speaker system, and I feel the hair raise on my arms.

“Nick...” I glance sideways at him, awaiting his response. “Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing” He utters hauntingly, and another round of goosebumps make my body shiver. _He’s quoting Poe?_

“Robert, my husband, was an Air Force bomber pilot. He used to live on one of those ships when they weren’t doing bombing runs. He’d send letters telling me how freezing cold it was over in northern China” I murmur with an absentminded caress of my jacket as I step outside.

I hear Nick click his tongue in what I presume is understanding. “So that jacket of yours was your husband’s, huh?” He clarifies, and I nod my head.

I watch silently as vertibirds descend from the airship’s hangers, and I have to resist the urge to curl my hands into fists so as not to aggravate the burns. “Nothing good can come of this” I mutter, and I feel Nick place his hand on my shoulder.

“Flying that ship into the heart of the Commonwealth? Mark my words, the Brotherhood’s here to start a war” He responds ominously, and we stand there watching it crawl slowly across the sky for a while longer.

“Well, I’d say we’re in the weeds here regarding our investigation of your son’s kidnapping. We need to bring in some fresh eyes” He breaks the silence after a while. “The only person I know willing to snoop up the Institute’s tail feathers is Piper. I say we head her way to talk this through”.

The mentioning of Piper makes me want to roll my eyes, and I try not to let my annoyance show. “Back to Diamond City then?” I question, and he nods. “Back to Diamond City”.

The next morning, we set out for Goodneighbor. I had wanted to leave immediately after talking our ideas over with Piper, but Nick said that the town was too “unpredictable” at night.

It was damn lucky of me to have swiped that metallic chunk off of Kellogg, because it seemed to be the key to everything in understanding more about the Institute.

“ _Now, I want you getting a good night’s rest tonight. No more of what you did earlier this week_ ” Nick had chided as Ellie whisked me away to her house for the night.

She then graciously offered up the shower in her home for me to use, and insisted on washing my clothes for me as thanks for saving Nick from the Vault.

It felt awkward handing her my sweaty undergarments through the cracked open bathroom door, but she simply laughed and said “ _I don’t mind helping another woman out when I can!_ ”.

I had to renew my resolve under the hot water to not let those things get to me, or I’d fall apart any time someone incorrectly gendered me.

A tall wooden gate topped with barbed wire was the first sign of the town as we weaved between the ruined skyscrapers that crowded the city streets.

“Goodneighbor. Lowest place in the Commonwealth. Everything not nailed down rolls through here at some point” He mutters as we step through the gate. A man smoking a cigarette in a black leather jacket stands near the town’s entrance, and he perks up at the sight of us.

“Well, well. It’s the detective. Tracking down another wayward husband to his mistress?” He quips, throwing his smoke to the ground and stomping it beneath one foot.

“Why, someone stand you up?” Nick retorts. He scoffs and narrows his eyes. “Tryin’ that, what’d ya call it, evasive language, on me?”.

The man turns his head to face me and his eyes rake over me. “And who are you, huh? Valentine’s new dick-in-training? Another faggot we gotta worry about messing in our town’s business?” He demands.

My knife is in my hands before I can stop myself, and it’s pressed against his throat in an instant.

“Oh, do you not like being called that?” He sneers with an amused glint in his eyes, and there isn’t much restraining me from slitting his throat then and there.

I’m seriously considering carrying that action out before a raspy voice startles me: “Whoa, whoa. Time out”. I turn my head to the left and see a man walk out from an alleyway towards us.

He’s dressed in Revolutionary War regalia and a tattered American flag is tied around his waist. As he gets closer, I notice that his skin is dry and wrinkled in an unnatural way. _Is he a non-feral Ghoul?_

“Nick Valentine makes a rare visit to town, and you’re hassling his friend here?” He wheezes, his eye level being several inches shorter than mine. _He also doesn’t have a nose. Interesting._

”Good to see you again, Nick” The man adds warmly, and the detective acknowledges him with a short “Hancock”.

The leather-clad man suddenly kicks my knee and shoves his boot into my stomach. I lurch backwards and nearly fall to the ground before Nick puts his hands out to stop me.

“What d’you care? This fag ain’t one of us” He growls, and I feel Nick’s hands lock around my biceps as I attempt to rush the man again. “No love for your mayor, Finn? I said let ‘em go” The ghoul threatens tightly.

“You’re soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there’ll be a new mayor” Finn rebukes, taking a step towards the shorter man.

“Come on, man. This is me we’re talking about. Let me tell you something...” Hancock replies, stepping within one foot of Finn. In the blink of an eye, Hancock draws a knife from his back pocket and thrusts the blade twice into the man’s chest.

“Now why’d you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here” He states as Finn collapses to the ground. Nick’s grip loosens on my upper arms and I yank them free to walk over to the so-called ‘mayor’.

“Whoa, I like you already! You’re a feisty one, I like it!” He says with a hearty laugh. “Walk into a new place, make a show of dominance. Nice”.

 _I just wanted to kill him for saying that word, there wasn’t anything to it._ “Goodneighbor’s of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone’s welcome” Hancock says with a toothy grin.

“‘Of the people, for the people’? That’s rich” I snort, the anger-induced adrenaline making my patience dead like Finn on the ground. He chuckles at my reply before thoughtfully scrutinizing my face for several moments 

“Like I said, I can tell I’m gonna like you already. Just consider this town your home away from home...” He starts lightheartedly before his tone turns more sinister. “So long as you remember who’s in charge”.

He turns on his heel towards the door of a large building on the left, and an armored woman with a half-shaven haircut follows him in. Before she closes the door behind her, she calls out to me: “A new player in Goodneighbor. Hello little pawn, welcome to our fun and games”.

The door slams shut behind her, and I turn my head to look back at Nick. “Are you alright, doll?” He inquiries, and the pet name makes me flinch.

 _It’s not gendered, he doesn’t mean it that way._ “Andie?” His concern showing more and more as he closes the distance between us. _Fuck fuck fuck._

“Sorry, I’m just surprised hearing that word is all. I wasn’t expecting it” I lie through my teeth, hoping that he takes the explanation without question. His eyes narrow with doubt but he makes no comment.

“So, where is this ‘Memory Den’ that Dr. Amari works at?” I ask, changing the subject. “It’s just down this alleyway and to the left” He answers, his tone still suspicious of my strange behavior.

An old building looms just where Nick said it was, it’s front doors nestled between walls covered with suggestive posters of dancing women.

Through a hallway filled with the very same-posters as outside, we come upon a large room lined with cushion-filled glass units, one of which was occupied. A woman in a form-fitting dress with a feathered collar is lying down on a chaise lounge, and her face lights up at the sight of Nick.

“Well, well, Mr. Valentine. I thought you had forgotten about lil ole’ me” She says coyly as she puts a hand underneath her chin. “May have walked out of the Den, Irma, but I’d never walk out on you” Nick teases in return.

My eyes roll at their banter. _I guess they’ve known each other a while._ “Amari’s downstairs, you big flirt” Irma replies, pointing to a staircase at the back of the room. Down some wooden stairs, a clinic of sorts awaits us at the bottom.

A dark-haired woman sits typing at a computer with her back turned to us. “Dr. Amari?” Nick calls out. “Yes? I take it this isn’t a social call?” She responds, spinning in her chair to face us.

“We need your help, doctor. We want to look at the memories from a dead man named Kellogg. I found this sticking out of his skull” I tell her, handing over the cybernetic implant.

“What’s this? This isn’t a brain! This is...” She gasps as she turns it over in her fingers. “That’s the hippocampus! And is that a neural interface attached to it?”. Nick steps closer to her and gives it a curious glance. “Those circuits look awfully familiar...”

“I’m not surprised. From what I’ve seen, all Institute technology has a similar architecture” She responds, holding the object up to the light. “Mr. Valentine is an older generation synth. But Institute technology being what it is... The brain implant could fit him” Amari states with a look at the man.

“But that’s an _incredible_ risk to take. We’re talking about wiring something to his brain” The doctor warns. Nick waves her off nonchalantly.

“Don’t worry about me, Amari. I’m well past the warranty date, anyway” He replies, and I grab his hand, wincing slightly as I agitate the burns on my hands. “Nick... you don’t have to do that” I counter, and he looks me in the eyes.

“Do you know anyone else that we can nominate for the job?” He asks pointedly. “Thank you for doing this, Nick” I sigh in defeat. “You can thank me when we’ve found your son” He responds softly, and he turns to Amari. “All right, let’s do this”.

“Just sit down whenever you’re ready, Mr. Valentine” She gestures at a nearby armchair. “If I start cackling like an old, grizzled mercenary, pull me out, okay?” He chuckles as he sits down, and I shoot him a sharp glance.

With a screwdriver in her hands, she carefully removes a section of plastic on the back of his skull. With steady hands, she attaches the implant to a part of his internal computer.

“I need you to keep talking to me, Mr. Valentine. Any slight change in your cognitive functions could be dire. Are you... feeling any different?” She questions, and I watch as Nick grips the arms of the chair tightly.

“There’s a lot of flashes... static... I can’t make any sense of it, doc” His voice tainted with fear and panic as he speaks.

“That’s what I was afraid of. The mnemonic impressions are encoded. It appears the Institute has one last failsafe. There’s a lock on the memories in the implant” She elaborates, her eyes narrowing. “Do you have a way past this, doctor?” I inquire, worry pushing it’s way into my voice.

“Let me think... The encryption is too strong for a single mind. But... what if we used two?” Her face lighting up with a realization. “We load both you and Mr. Valentine into the memory loungers, and run your cognitive functions in parallel. He’ll act as a host while your consciousness drives through whatever memories we can find”.

A shaky breath escapes my chest. “All right. Let’s get started then”.

“Just sit down over there, and keep your fingers crossed” Amari points at one of the glass units in the room. As Nick and I sit in our respective pods, I feel fear creep into my body.

 _The cryopods... Oh god._ I feel my breath hitch in my throat as the hatch closes down, sealing me in.

“Andie...” I hear Nick’s voice call through the glass. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. I’ll see you on the other side” He assures. Taking a few deep breaths, I hear Amari’s voice through a small speaker.

“Initiating brain-wave migration between the transplant and the host. Mnemonic activity coming from the transplant! It’s degenerated, but it’s there! She cries out, and I hear her furiously typing on her keyboard.

“I’m going to load you into the strongest memories we can find. They might not be stable, just hold on!” are the last words I hear before a blinding white light drowns out the world.

“Slow movements, okay? I don’t know what kind of side effects the procedure might have had. No one’s ever done this before” Amari cautions, the hatch lifting on the memory lounger.

“How do you feel?” She asks tentatively when I rise to my feet. “A little groggy, like I’ve woken up from a nap” I state as I blink away the spots in my vision.

“Are you... ready to talk about what happened in there?” The doctor asks quietly. I feel my body tense up. _I saw... I saw him kill Robert again... and my son really IS ten years old now. Fucking damn it all._

“Not really, can we just talk about how the Institute has accomplished _teleportation_?” I evade, emphasizing the ludicrousness of that last word with a hand gesture.

Amari sighs, but I continue on. “Kellogg was supposed to track down a scientist, Virgil. We need to find him”. “You’re right, a rogue scientist could answer all kinds of questions” She concedes.

“Where did the memory say he was? The Glowing Sea? That doesn’t make sense. No one goes there, not even if they were desperate”. My face scrunches up in confusion. “Why? What makes the Glowing Sea so dangerous?” I question.

“The name says it all. Radiation. So much that nothing there could possibly live. At least, nothing pleasant. Navigating radioactive hazards is nothing new, but the Glowing Sea can kill a man in seconds. That’s why it doesn’t make sense for Virgil to flee into that hell. The exposure alone...” She trails off uneasily.

“He’s hiding from the Institute, right? It’s because they wouldn’t think twice about following him there” I propose matter-of-factly. _Wasn’t that obvious?_

“That must be it! If Virgil found a way to survive there, you’ll have to do the same if you’re going to follow him” Amari replies.

“How do I fight that much radiation, doctor?” I spit out as I try to rack my brain for ideas. “There are chemical compounds like Rad-X and RadAway. You’d need as much as you could carry, maybe more” She answers, her face deep in thought.

“A sealed environment suit would be great, if you could find one. Or maybe one of those suits of Power Armor? That would be perfect”.

My face lights up with a smile that’s a mile wide. “Power Armor, you say?” I clarify, and I already feel a storm of ideas brewing for modifications to the one back at Sanctuary.

“By the way, I unplugged Mr. Valentine first and removed the implant while you were waking up. He’s waiting for you upstairs!” She yells as I make my out of the basement. I spot him at the end of the long line of memory loungers on a sofa, and I raise my hand up in a wave as I approach.

When he speaks, it makes my blood run cold: “Hope you got what you were looking for inside my head. Heh, I was right. I should’ve killed you while you were on ice”. _No fucking way._

Kellogg’s voice sounds full of static, like the sound is being played through an old speaker. “Nick, are you still in there?” I whisper in horror.

“What? What are you talking about?” The detective replies, his voice back to normal and filled with annoyance.

“I thought I... you sounded like...” I stammer, my mind racing with anxiety as I decide what to say. “Never mind”. He follows me outside with a confused look on his face, but he doesn’t say anything. _Maybe I was just imagining things._

“We have to head into the Glowing Sea. Any advice?” I question as we walk through the streets of Goodneighbor.

“Hmm... I’m a synth, so radiation isn’t much of an issue for me, but an old suit of Power Armor might just be the guardian angel you’re looking for” He replies after a moment of thinking.

“You and I are on the same wavelength then, because that’s exactly what I’m gonna do” I grin. "You have a suit of Power Armor?” His eyes widen.

“Yup, back at my home in Sanctuary. We’re gonna need to make a few stops for building materials though” I say as I spot a store titled “Daisy’s Discounts”. “Building materials?” He mutters behind me.

“Oh, a new face walks into my store. And you’re not even screaming... yet” A woman behind a counter laughs as we walk in. “Very polite. Let me know if anything catches your fancy” She finishes with a gesture at the rows of shelves behind her.

“Why? Because you’re a Ghoul? I would rather have beautiful black eyes like yours than have gone through 210 years of cryostasis” I remark straightly, and her face cracks into a smile.

“You? 210 years old?” She rasps, and I mirror her face with a grin of my own. “I’m actually 238 years old if you want accuracy” I reply, and I pull the wedding band off my left hand to show her.

“My husband and I were married July 4th, 2074. Robert wanted our anniversary date to be ‘7/4/74’. He was such a big dork. We honeymooned in the Adirondacks for two months, after going through an agonizing 6 hours of holiday traffic” I reminisce as she confirms the date inscribed on the silver band.

_We weren’t legally married until July 7th. Our first wedding was just among close friends, while our second wedding was among all of our family._

_No one ever saw the correct date on the inside of our wedding bands though._

“Well, I’ll be damned” She exclaims as she hands the jewelry back to me. “I’m going to need all the aluminum, circuitry, copper, and steel that you have” I demand with an eager smile as I dump out my backpack full of Kellogg’s scavenged weapons and ammo.

After clearing Daisy of all the building materials I could find, we hit up Diamond City’s shops for more. When I run out of caps after getting shipments of materials from a woman named Myrna, I loot more expensive items from Kellogg’s house to sell. I use it to buy more ammo for my rifle, and to rent two brahmin to lug the crates of materials.

“I’ve never seen someone so excited over so much junk” Nick remarked as we left the ‘Green Jewel of the Commonwealth’.

We arrive at Red Rocket by late afternoon, and he lets out a whistle at the sight of the distant neighborhood. “I didn’t know places like this still existed” He comments as we head down the street after securing the brahmin.

A bark from inside the gas station startles me as Dogmeat comes to greet us, and we instruct him to watch the cattle while we’re across the bridge with promises of belly scratches.

I see members of the Minutemen digging up the backyard of the Whitfield’s house presumably to plant crops, and Preston eventually notices us to give us a wave.

“Who are they?” Nick questions. “They’re my new neighbors, the Minutemen. I helped them out over in Concord. They had nowhere else to go, and my neighborhood doesn’t exactly have a real estate agent to sell these empty houses...” I explain, and his expression turns into something I can’t read.

“You’re really selfless, you know that right?” Nick says suddenly, and I don’t know how to respond. “I guess... I never really thought about it” I respond after a few moments, my face turning red at the compliment.

I decide to avoid furthering the conversation by ducking into my house to grab my large toolbox from the hallway closet.

“You ready to help me scavenge the metal off these old cars?” My face beaming with excitement as I come back outside.

“What about your hands?” Nick asks. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna wear my gloves” I say as I pull them out from my toolbox.

“If you say so” He agrees with an exasperated shake of his head, his eyes shining with amusement.

We only get through two of the seven salvageable cars in the neighborhood before he says that we should call it a night.

“You’re welcome to hang out in my living room. The sofa is still soft even after all this time” I offer to Nick, knowing that he doesn’t need to sleep.

“I might take you up on that, but right now I just want a smoke” He replies with a chuckle, pulling out a carton of cigarettes from his trench coat pocket.

An hour passes of trying to fall asleep in bed. _You want me to talk to you that badly, huh?_ I drag myself out of the covers and slip on my jacket to keep myself warm against the frosty temperature of the quiet October night.

As I tuck my hair into the baseball cap, I see that Nick is nowhere to be seen in my living room, and he isn’t outside when I make my way down the street toward Robert.

“Hey, you blonde bastard. I’m trying to get some sleep. You know how bad my temper gets when I try to do work on no sleep” I joke at the cold earth covering my husband.

The silence that returns my words unsettles me.

“You wanna know something? They turned Fenway Park into a _fucking_ city, can you believe that?” I rant, trying to fill the silence with something.

“And affer 210 years, I finally got that baseball cap you wanted to buy me” I add, doing a courtesy as I remove my hat for emphasis. I take a glance at the stars, half hidden by a partly cloudy sky.

“I know that you’re up there somewhere, Robbie. When I find Shaun, I’ll make sure that he grows up knowing how amazing of a man you were”.

“He won’t grow up watching cartoons every Saturday, and he won’t experience navigating the social jungle of public school, but I don’t mind”.

”As long as there’s the two of us, I’ll make the rest of his childhood amazing” I promise to the sky, and I turn to blow a kiss at the headstone. “Goodnight and sweet dreams, honey”.

As I walk back towards my house, I don’t notice Nick hiding in the shadows of a nearby house, watching me with a face full of tenderness and understanding.

After a few hours the next day scrapping the rest of the cars in the neighborhood, Sturges joins in when he catches wind of what we’re doing. “If you need help with this little project of yours, I wouldn’t mind lending a hand” He provides, and I graciously accept the offer.

Nick decides to let the two of us chatter excitedly about my plans to scrap the T-45 armor plating and rebuild it into the X-01 model. He checks in on us periodically over the next week and a half, ensuring that we take meal breaks and don’t stay up through the night.

Dogmeat walks into the Red Rocket garage one day while we’re welding the fortified sheets of steel, and he immediately runs out when a stray spark falls in front of him.

We have to run out after him, apologizing with ear scratches. When Preston learns of my newly acquired rifle, he insists on teaching me a few pointers.

He informs me about maintaining a constant shoulder pressure with the stock when I shoot and how you need to fire with an impact point into mind, instead of an impact _area_.

After completing the Power Armor’s reconstruction, I tell Sturges to run over to Concord with a fellow Minuteman to scavenge for any cans of black and white paint that they can find. Nick offers to go with Sturges instead, and the two men head off towards the town.

I place my baseball cap backwards on my head as I sit down to drink a can of purified water. The old flannel shirt I’m wearing and my bare arms eventually become covered in grease stains from checking the hydraulics on the legs of the armor while I wait.

“So, you really made a whole new suit of Power Armor, huh?” A voice whistles, and I look up to see Nick and Sturges walking into the garage with three cans of paint in each of their arms.

“Well, I worked in a factory making these babies for 3 years. It’d be a waste of my engineering degree if I didn’t go all out” I grin as I take another gulp of water. After taking a can of black paint from Nick’s arms, I begin slathering a layer of it on the armor.

“You guys can go take a break, I’m gonna paint this myself” I declare, and they thankfully don’t attempt to offer their help. _I just want to do this one thing_...

I hear the clink of Nick’s lighter as they take a smoke break outside by the gas pumps. After a few moments, I can feel myself getting lost in the rhythm of my paint strokes.

Nick and Sturges start chatting, but it’s all background noise. That is until I hear my name being spoken. “Andie sure is a one of a kind woman, huh?” I hear Sturges say with awe.

I can tell Nick takes a long drag of his cigarette from the sound of his smoke-filled exhale. “She’s one hell of a character” He replies quietly.

Not knowing what to make of that, I shake my head to focus on painting the rest of the metal. After speeding up the drying process with a blowtorch, I use a smaller paintbrush to draw a pair of wings on the back of the torso.

“Wings?” Sturges asks as they enter the garage. “The nose of my husband’s bomber plane had an angel sitting on the moon painted on it. I’m nowhere near that good of an artist, so this is the closest that I’m gonna get” I respond as I step back to check for any bare patches.

“At first, I thought that you were taking my ‘guardian angel’ comment a little too literally” Nick jokes. “Well, do you think you’re ready to head out to the Glowing Sea?” I turn towards the man as I ask.

“Been one heck of a ride so far. Let’s see where it takes us next” He replies with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick calling Dogmeat is an actual thing that happens in the game if you don't meet Dogmeat before that point!
> 
> When I was writing Kellogg vs Orion, Beyond the Sea started playing asgdjskfg (it's funny considering that that song is Robert and Orion's couple song)
> 
> When I mention the direction of the Prydwen's approach, it ACTUALLY comes in from the southwest according to the in-game compass. It also makes sense geographically!


	4. Speak Easily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mentioning suicide!
> 
> “I’m gonna make this chapter short, because the next chapter is gonna be super long!” *writes 5500 words despite skipping several scenes*

“You know how I said if we survived this, I owed you a stiff drink? Make that several” Nick states as he gestures with his gun towards the dead Courser. I walk over to remove the chip from behind their ear with my knife to place inside a pocket of my backpack. 

“I know you’re not here for me, but... I can’t get out, not on my own!” The trapped woman yells from the small room behind us. I share a glance with Nick and hurry over to the metal grates she yelled through. “I’m going to have to trust you to help me” Her body shifting uncomfortably as we get closer.

“I promise not to hurt you” I say, removing my sunglasses to appear less intimidating. Her eyes widen ever so slightly for a second, and I wonder if I imagined the movement. 

“The guard put the password in a toolbox over there under the stairs. You can use it to gain access to the terminal and open the door” She replies nervously, not looking me in the eyes anymore. I glance over at the terminal on the wall and scoff, “Let me take a look at it first”. 

After a minute or so, I’m logged onto the computer. With the simple selection of a command, the heavy door opens. “Is there any machine you can’t charm?” Nick jokes, and a smile creeps it’s way onto my face. We walk into the room, and I get a closer look at the woman. 

Her clothing is stained black with grease and dirt while several strands of her dark brown hair lay messily across her forehead. “Thank you, I don’t know what to say” She says while rubbing her upper arm sheepishly. “You don’t have to say anything” I reply warmly, and a small smile appears on her face. 

“My.. Institute designation is K1-98, but I prefer Jenny” The girl mentions quietly, and I notice Nick stiffen slightly at the name. “So yes, I’m a synth- if you hadn’t already guessed” Jenny continues, her stone blue eyes shining defiantly. 

“I knew they’d send a Courser. I just didn’t think he’d find me so fast. I think I would have lost him, but then I was captured by these... mercenaries, and all this happened”. She slips past us and out into the main room.

“Thanks for your help, I’m going to look for supplies before heading out”. Before I can move towards her, she shakes her head. “And before you ask, I don’t need any more help. The Commonwealth is unforgiving. I need to make it on my own, or I’m dead. Maybe we’ll meet again, under better circumstances. I... hope we do” Jenny finishes, swiftly disappearing down a staircase.

After a few moments of silence, I turn to Nick and ask, “Does the name Jenny mean something to you?”. He seemed ready for that question, and he lets out a sigh. “It’s the name of someone that... that I used to know. It was a long time ago” He murmurs, and I deicide not to press him further.

He shakes his head. “The Railroad was our next stop, right? Guess we’ll head to the start of the Freedom Trail. Let’s hope they can help us understand this Courser Chip”.

The brick wall in front of us rumbles loudly as it slides backwards and to the right. “There we go” I say, satisfaction lighting up my face with a grin. Nick rolls his eyes. “Their password could use some work” He mutters. 

I chuckle as we walk into the open space hidden by the secret door. A loud clang precedes the activation of a glaringly bright spotlight, and I have to place my sunglasses over my eyes in order to see clearly. 

“Stop right there” A voice cautions, and I make out the silhouettes of three people on a ledge in front of us. “You went through a lot of effort to arrange this meeting. But before we go any further, answer my questions” They demand, their tone not inviting of any pushback.

My eyes finally adjust to the glare and I make out a woman flanked by two people brandishing a large minigun and a rifle respectively. Both weapons are aimed at Nick and I. “Who the hell are you?”.

“Why don’t you tell me who you are first?” I rebuke against my good judgement.  _Why did I do that?_ “In a world full of suspicion and treachery, we’re the synths’ only friends. We’re the Railroad” The woman replies, pride creeping it’s way into her voice. “Now answer my question”. My eyes widen.  _We found them!_

“I followed the Freedom Trail looking for the Railroad. I’m not your enemy” I submit, trying to relax my shoulders. “If that’s true, you have nothing to fear” She replies.  _If?_ The woman continues. “Who told you how to contact us?”.  _No one did... will they think I’m lying if I tell them the truth?_

“I just heard a rumor about you guys in Goodneighbor” I state earnestly.Before she can reply, a man walks up behind her. His black pompadour contrasts sharply with the blank white t-shirt he wears.

“Deacon? Where’ve you been?” She questions, turning to face the newcomer. “I didn’t know we were having a party. What gives with my invitation?” He jokes straightly, pitch black sunglasses covering his eyes. 

The man notices Nick and I standing across the room and he whistles. “Oh, I see you invited the Courser-killer. Nice”. My face frowns in suspicion.  _How does he know about that? That only happened two hours ago_ _._

“Do we know each other?” I ask with furrowed brows. “I didn’t need to meet you to hear about you” He replies smoothly.

“Deacon, you’re late. You’re saying this person actually killed a Courser? Single-handedly? That’d give even Glory a run for her money” The woman asks with wide eyes, glancing towards the person holding the minigun. 

I can feel Glory’s eyes sizing me up in that moment. “Do you have any more intel that you’d like to enlighten us with?”. Deacon’s face breaks out into a smirk.

“News flash, boss, this lady is  _kind of_ a big deal. Where do I start? Nick Valentine over there was in a jam, as usual. But word is, she bailed him out. And talked her way past Skinny Malone to boot” He begins, making his way down the steps towards me.

“And the Railroad owes you a crate, hell a  _truckload_ , of Nuka-Cola for what you did to Kellogg. He was our public enemy number one”. The woman’s face turns curious. “So you’re vouching for her?”

She posits. “Yes, trust me. She’s someone we want on our side. Now, if you’re done interrogating this little Courser-murdering machine over here, maybe you should show them a little courtesy” He adds, his teeth flashing in a grin.

“I owe you an apology. Anyone who kills a Courser is good in my book. My name is Desdemona, and I’m the leader of the Railroad. And you are?” She says with a less guarded expression. _Not today._

“Andie” I reply evenly. “So, Andie, why did you want to meet with us anyway?” Desdemona continues, her expression guarded once more. “My son, Shaun, was kidnapped. I was looking for help to find him” I respond. 

Her jaw drops for a few stunned moments before she attempts to compose herself. “Someone stole your boy? That’s terrible! Do you know who did it? For your sake, I hope the Institute wasn’t involved” She stammers out, and my hands curl into fists.

“They were. Kellogg had taken him”. A satisfied smile breaks the stern line of Desdemona’s lips. “Well, at least you got your revenge. But that doesn’t bring your son back. I’ll have Deacon look into this. If anyone can find a more concrete lead on him, he can”. 

I shrug off my backpack and reach inside for the Courser chip, holding it up for them to see: “I don’t need a lead, I have one right here”. All of them audibly gasp and I return it back to it’s pocket. “So, how do I get help decoding this thing?” I question with a glance towards Desdemona. 

Her shocked face smoothes over in an instant. “If we’re going to be dealing with you, I need to make sure we’re on the same page. You know what a synth is, right?” Her voice cautious again.

I turn to my right to look at Nick. “I would hope so” I joke, and he rolls his eyes. “The Institute treats synths as property, as tools” Desdemona states, disdain in her voice. “Even if synths are artificial, that’s still slavery” I reply, seeing Nick nod his head approvingly out of the corner of my eye.

“Exactly. We seek to free the synths from their bondage, to give them a chance at a real life” She responds, stepping off the ledge to stand next to Deacon.

“I have a question. The only question that matters. Would you risk your life for your fellow man, even if that man is a synth?” Her face covered in shadow as the spotlight illuminates her profile.

I remove the leather gloves from my hands to present my burned palms. The skin was still red and shiny as the scars tried to fade.

“I got these from Kellogg. I jumped in front of Nick and got a burning hot pistol to the hands; I’d do it again if I had to” I affirm, turning my head to see Nick’s face break into a large smile. Desdemona nods with a satisfied look.

“Normally, you’re exactly the type of person we try to recruit. But right now, we don’t have time to train up a new agent” She admits, her eyes meeting Deacon’s. 

“There are, however, other valuable ways you can contribute. In turn, we can help you. See Deacon for details” Her shoulder length hair nearly whipping the man in the face as she pivots her body to walk back towards the others.

“I hope you didn’t mind the reception. When you tango with the Institute, you’ve gotta be careful when someone new gets on the dance floor” Deacon deadpans, and I let out a small laugh. “Your leader was just being cautious, it could have been worse” I wave him off. 

“Exactly, but it kind of killed our chance at a friendly first impression though” He smirks. With a swift movement of his fingers, he pulls out a comb from his pants to fix his hair.

“But it’s all good now. I vouched for you, and nobody got shot. In return, I think you being tight-lipped about our operations would be a fair response” The man adds as he smoothes out a stray curl. 

“Why _did_ you  vouch for me anyway?” I question with a puzzled expression. “In our little outfit, it’s my job to know things. And with everything you’ve done, it’s clear that you’re capable. You’d be one dangerous enemy, but I’m betting you’d also be a valuable ally” He explains, and I can’t help but feel surprised. 

_Me? Dangerous? That’s a new superlative for my yearbook- ‘Most Dangerous Enemy’_ . 

“But why the trust? You seem to be one of few people in the Commonwealth with this kind of optimism” I respond with raised eyebrows. Deacon shrugs. 

“I don’t know if we can trust you, but I hope we can. We just survived a hell of a crisis. So we may just be a teeny-weeny bit desperate for new members. If everything was sunshine and bottle caps, we’d probably play a little longer ‘getting to know you game’. But we don’t have that luxury”.

“So Dez wants me to make you a ‘tourist’. That’s what we call someone who helps with the odd job here and there. What a waste” He continues with a sigh. “I’m just going to come out and say it: the Railroad needs you”. 

_Never had someone desperate for my help before_.  “You sure are staking a lot on a Pre-War engineer who knows how to throw knives” I murmur, exasperated disbelief heavy in my voice.

“I think you’re selling yourself short, my fellow sunglasses-wearing friend” Deacon says, adjusting his black frames. “You can say that again” Nick pipes up, and I roll my eyes with a small sigh. “If you two say so. Anyway, what do we need to help you with?” I say, steering the conversation back to it’s origin.

“I got a job. It’s too big for me, but perfect for the three of us. You help me out, we turn a few heads, and then Dez invites you into the fold” He elaborates. “Well, what are we waiting for then?” I joke, and Deacon smiles. “Perfecto. Before we do anything, I need to take you somewhere”.

The small apartment Deacon had led us to looked like a fashion designer’s atelier. I remove my sunglasses in shock, blinking my eyes to see if the room would dissolve like a dream. Several racks of clothing lined the walls, and mannequins were posed around the space in a variety of elaborate outfits.

“You’re going to need a disguise when you work with us” He states, glancing at my bomber jacket. “Your jacket is as loud as a Deathclaw”. My eyes gaze around the rainbow motley of clothing. 

“Well, what would you suggest I wear instead-“ I begin, my words catching in my throat as I spot something familiar.  _No way, it can’t be_ _._

I walk over to a section of clothes and my fingers unconsciously slide underneath the plastic sheath to touch the wool fabric of the suit, it’s brilliant gray color standing out amongst the worn flannel shirts and armored clothing.

“ _I’m so happy that I’m marrying the handsomest man alive today_ ” Robert’s voice calls to me. A warm smile spreads across my face.

“ _Handsomest? Is that even a word?_ ” I remember replying, his face smirking at my habit of taking things seriously. “ _Shut up and kiss me already, space cadet”_ was his laughter-filled response. 

Deacon calling out “Hello? Earth to Andie?” snaps me out of my reminiscing. “Sorry, I... it’s just that..” My mouth fumbling as I try to come up with an excuse, my face warming into a blush.

_No sunglasses to hide my eyes now, and I can’t exactly tell him that I wore a suit just like this for my wedding_ . “I’m... just feeling sentimental is all” I nervously admit, and I notice that even Nick is looking at me with confusion. 

_Shit shit shit._ With a twist of my feet, I move towards a nearby clothing rack. “I’m going to try this on” I mutter, yanking a long tattered coat off it’s hanger.

“That probably won’t fit you, it’s too big for a girl-“ Deacon attempts to say, his words fading into the air when I remove my leather jacket. “Damn, I didn’t know you were loaded. You’re like a human punch!” He whistles, crossing the room for a closer look. 

_I suppose he’s talking about my biceps_ . The sleeves of my flannel shirt clung tightly to my upper arms; it was a feeling that I both loved and hated. _Musculature helps me feel like a man, but my frame is still so feminine_ .

“They’re almost as big as mine” He chuckles, flexing his arms for emphasis. “So why are you covering them up? You don’t need a rifle when you have those bad boys- they would scare off even the toughest raider”. 

Both Deacon  and Nick’s faces seem ready for receiving an explanation. _It’s because I hate my body. I hate my body, I hate my body, I hate my body-_

“I get cold really easily” I lie, brushing a hand against my forearm to underscore my words. _They know I’m lying, but what else am I going to tell them?_ I slip the lightweight coat across my shoulders and wrap it’s accompanying scarf around my neck. 

I felt naked without Robert’s bulky jacket on me, but at least my torso is covered aptly enough. “What’s the mission, Deacon?” I ask, and the man’s poker-face reveals nothing for a few moments before breaking into a small smile. “Here’s the plan...”

“And the new girl patched me up, put me on her shoulder, and blasted her way through the rest of the complex. Synths everywhere” I hear Deacon say as we walk towards the Railroad’s headquarters. 

_Oh geez, why did I agree to let him go ahead?_ “Carrying you the whole time?” Desdemona asks incredulously. “Amazing, right?” Deacon grins. “That’s one word for it” She replies with a roll of her eyes as she lights a cigarette.

“Deacon told me you single-handedly secured Carrington’s prototype, disabled a minefield, and wiped out a hundred Gen 1s. So, is any of that true?”.  _Really, Deacon? You’re laying it on a little thick_ _._

“Some of that is true. I did disable some mines and laser tripwires, but there weren’t a  _hundred_ synths. I’d say half of that number” I admit, with an exasperated glance at the man. 

Beside me, Nick cracks a smile for me revealing the truth. “Embellishing the truth again, are we?” Desdemona asks pointedly, with a sharp glance at Deacon. “You would have fallen for it, ya know” He smiles, and she scoffs. “Don’t flatter yourself”. 

The woman turns to face me. “I was expecting Deacon to grab a full team, including Glory, to secure that prototype. But instead, just the three of you cleared out the entire Switchboard” She elaborates, her eyes showing a glint of respect.

“You’d be insane not to sign her up, Dez” The man inserts smoothly, and she takes a drag of her cigarette thoughtfully. 

“You’ve certainly made an impression on Deacon. He’s never spoken about, or lied about”, her eyes squinting at him she speaks, “anyone so highly before”. 

After moving her cigarette to her left hand, she reaches out with her right: “Welcome to the Railroad, agent”. I can feel some of the tension leave my shoulders as I give her a firm handshake.“Glad to be aboard”.

“It seems we’re very lucky to have you. So, now that you’re in, we need to know what to call you” Another inhale from her cigarette. “Maintaining secrecy with things like that disguise and a codename are part of what keep us alive. So, what’s yours?” She continues, flicking ashes onto the ground. 

_I don’t want anything flashy... Hmm_ . “How about Whisper?” I suggest, thinking back to the man whose gun now sat against my hip. 

“After Tommy? Or...? Either way, that’s very fitting” Desdemona responds with raised brows. “Now, your first official order is to deliver Dr. Carrington his prototype and see if he can use another pair of hands. But before that, I’d like to introduce you to the rest of the gang” She says with a wave of her hand, beckoning us to follow her. 

Deacon flashes a grin and thumbs up at me before quickly vanishing into the hole in the wall. Desdemona follows him, and I hear Nick’s light footsteps as we trail behind her. 

“The location of our HQ is one of our most tightly guarded secrets. We closely monitor the surrounding area for Freedom Trail followers, or dubious strangers” She states. “So be careful coming in or out, you never can tell when you’re being watched”.

The woman leads us down a set of brick stairs into a large underground room. It’s filled with dozens of people at desks or conversing in front of large maps plastered against walls and on tables. 

“This is it. It may lack the amenities of the Switchboard, but it’s safe. We’ve taken the precautions to not be taken by surprise again” She indicates with a sweeping motion of her arm.

“Everyone, gather around! I’d like you to meet your newest agent, Whisper. She did the Switchboard op with Deacon, and she is a full agent effective immediately. I’m counting on each of you to show her the ropes” Desdemona yells, a group of a few dozen agents crowding into the center of the complex.

“Feel free to welcome her aboard. That is all” She finishes, and in response, a chorus of excited yells and cheers erupt from the assembly. Many walk up to congratulate me with pats on the back and excited handshakes. A flurry of codenames are introduced to me from everywhere in the room.

“Hiya, I’m Pine” A woman with a lithe body says, her scarred hands giving me a gentle handshake.

“My name’s Hope!” The energetic man’s voice booming in the small space as he gives me a quick slap on the shoulder.

“I’m Sunset! And I’m Dawn! Before you ask, yes we’re twins” Identical people state with simultaneous handshakes that I struggle to reciprocate.

“You’re Whisper, huh? My name’s Raptor” A woman with an eyepatch states smoothly.

“I’m Blaze, it’s good to meet you!” A man grins, and the woman at his side introduces herself softly as “Lightning”.

“Dragonfly” is the monosyllabic greeting of a tall man with a scar across his forehead, nodding in approval.

“He’s Ghost and I’m Frost” Two men inform me, their faces alight in mischievous grins.

“Hi, Whisper! I’m Rose!” A red-headed man exclaims, and the short brunette beside him perks up with a “Don’t forget me! My name’s Mayflower”.

“I’m Stag, and that’s my partner Mustang!” The curly-haired man informs me as he gestures to a person standing awkwardly across the room.

“Rook” A ponytailed man states politely.

“The name’s Tombstone. I’m glad someone’s keeping Tommy’s name going” is the heartfelt address from a man with heavily tattooed arms.

“She’s Bishop, and I’m Elm” The muscular one of the female duo states, the silent one brushing her black hair behind one ear.

“We’re Knight and Platinum” A stocky man laughs heartily as he gives me a hug, his blonde-haired companion giving me an apologetic glance.

My head spins from all the excitement and invasion of my personal space. I hear Desdemona say something about this “not being an easy road I’ve chosen” but that I’ll “never be alone”.  _I can’t handle this._ My body is tense with adrenaline, and I just want to run away. 

Suddenly, I feel Nick’s hand grasp my shoulder. “Alright folks, your leader assigned a task for Whisper that she has to finish” He tells the crowd, and I spot Deacon sliding through the space between people to meet us.

“Carrington’s over this way” He says, and I glimpse a man in a doctor’s labcoat sitting at a desk at the far side of the room. After a few moments of Deacon and Nick dispersing the overeager masses, I manage to find my way over to the doctor. 

“Ah, it’s our newest agent. We don’t get recruits very often, so I’m sorry if our members were a little rambunctious” His voice states shortly, not glancing up from his note-taking. 

“Um, Desdemona told me to give you this” I speak hesitantly, removing the prototype from my backpack and setting it on his desk. The thud of it’s placement makes his eyes dart up, and he drops his pen to shrewdly examine it. 

“An extraordinary feat to recover this. But that’s hardly the point. Without a lick of training and us knowing hardly anything about you, Dez has invited you to join HQ” The doctor states bitterly, looking me in the eyes.

“It would’ve been nice if she had consulted with her second-in command, but what’s done is done”. Carrington sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Since you’re here now, we might as well put you to work”.  _You don’t need to be such an asshole about it_. 

“Tell me what you need me to do, doctor” I ask politely, and he hums thoughtfully. “I don’t want an inexperienced agent like you dealing with our more important tasks just yet. I have something that you could assist with, but...” His chin cupped in one hand. “But?” I press, suppressing my annoyance.

“It’s a situation that requires one to be skilled in persuasion, but I imagine that since you’ve managed to capture the attention of the silver tongued Deacon, then you must be capable of emulating even just an ounce of his charisma” He elaborates, his eyes scrutinizing me. 

“You both wear sunglasses indoors, so I can only assume that you wear a mask just as he does”.  My body freezes. “I just have really sensitive eyes is all” I reply with a nervous laugh. 

_That was some pretty piss poor deflection, Orion._ Carrington’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t say anything.

“For this mission, you’ll need to go to the Egret Tours Marina in the southwest. There’s a woman there claiming to be a synth. Her name is Phyllis Daily, and she’s preventing anyone from coming near her”.

“When we sent Pine to help, the woman nearly shot her. Maybe you and your synth detective friend will have more luck convincing her to accept our assistance before the Institute sends a Courser for her”.

A shadow moves in a building’s makeshift lookout tower, and I have to resist the urge to pull out my rifle.  _Carrington says that she’s the only one in town, stop worrying._

Twilight turns the November sky into an array of orange-blue hues, and as we approach the building’s front door, I steal a nervous glance behind me at Nick.

“Here goes nothing” I mutter. As soon as the door opens halfway, a voice growls: “Kid, I don’t know who you are, but you’d better clear out before I go haywire and blast you”. Behind a wooden counter, a woman stands aiming a pipe rifle at the door. 

“Slow down, I just want to talk” I state neutrally, raising my hands to face my palms out. “Right, you just strolled in out of the Commonwealth lookin’ for synths to talk to” She scoffs, her mouth curling into a sneer. 

_Why did I agree to this?_

“What makes you think you’re a synth?” I question quietly, hoping my tone comes across as sincere.

“Black outs. Not remembering hurting people” Phyllis spits, her gaze shifting towards the ground.“Any second now they might send some signal, or I’ll see the color orange, or whatever it is they do, and  _boom_. One more dead fool” She mutters, and I can see a flicker of fear in her eyes. 

That look fades as her eyes raise to meet mine: “Now, are you going to get out of here, or wait for them to make me kill you?”. I remove my sunglasses to meet her stare. “We’re just talking, so why don’t you just ease off the trigger there” I insist, and she lowers her rifle cautiously.

“Fine, but don’t think this means you’re welcome here. Got your lookeloo at the synth? Ready to get out of here before they make me hurt you?” She demands, using her rifle to gesture towards the door.

“There’s got to be more to this” With a confused shake of my head, I step closer to Phyllis. She tenses up in anticipation, but I merely place one of my hands on her forearm. “What happened to make you think you’re a synth, Phyllis?” I murmur, and I can see the fear return.

“Look, kid, you’re taking a risk staying here to talk to me, but if that’s what it’ll take to get you to leave...” She concedes with a sigh.

“My grandson, Samuel, and I were on our own since my daughter died. I managed to get us in on a farm. Hard on these bones, but it kept us fed” Phyllis begins, and her eyes grow distant.

“I was on watch one night. I-I don’t...” Her voice becoming panicked and confused.

“I’m sitting there with a gun across my knees looking out over the hill an-and I think I fell asleep... It’s just, blank”. She tightens her grip around the stock of the rifle, and I see that her hands are shaking. 

“The next thing I remember is the sound of a gunshot shaking me out of it. Samuel is at my feet, and there’s blood everywhere” She chokes out, her voice wavering with emotion.  _Oh my god_. “What happened next?” I whisper. 

“There’s nothing else to tell! Everyone came running out, but it was just me and Samuel. No raiders, no Gunners, just... blood” She yells, tears forming in her eyes. 

“One moment he was there and then the next, just gone. Those little fingers that used to hold my hand”. Her gun drops to the ground and she falls to her knees with it. “And it’s all my fault. You can’t imagine what that’s like”. 

My lungs seize up and my thoughts are of _that_ day. “I saw my husband get shot in the head, and powerlessly watched my son be ripped from his dead hands and taken to the Institute. I understand exactly how you feel” I reply numbly, and she glances up at me. 

“I- Oh. I didn’t mean...” She apologizes, wiping the tears from her face. “I hope you get him back. Family is the only thing worth a damn in this world”. Phyllis rises to her feet and lets out a sigh. 

“But I guess he wasn’t really my grandson. They must have given me those memories, cause who could have done that to their own flesh and blood?”. She focuses on the palms of her hands. 

“Now you know why I’m out here and why you need to leave before they make me kill again. I’m a synth, and I can’t be trusted”. Without thinking, I grab her hands in my own. “Maybe you are a synth, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t change” I murmur.

“Don’t you get it, kid? I’m too dangerous. I’ll just end up hurting someone else” She angrily mumbles, but there’s no bite to her words.

“I know a group who can help you, Phyllis. You could start a new life somewhere far away from this place” I promise, hoping that she’ll see reason. “Hmm, that sounds like it could be nice...” She considers, then cracks an apologetic smile as she lets go of my hands.

“Look, I’m sorry that I drew my weapon on you, kid. To make it up to you, you could stay the night if you wanted. There’s a bed upstairs that you could use” She offers.

Before I can politely decline, Nick cuts me off. “We’d appreciate that, thank you ma’am” He acknowledges with a bow of his head, taking my now-empty hand to pull me towards the stairs. “I’ll be in the watchtower if y’all need me” She calls out, and I hear the door slam behind her. 

When we reach the bedroom, Nick turns to face me. “You’re not getting out of sleeping if I can help it, Andie” He states, and he continues before I can protest. “If the Railroad’s gonna be having you work for them so they can help you find your son, you’ll need all the rest you can get”. 

I sigh in defeat. “Fine, but let me check out _that_ first” I demand with the point of a finger towards an unlocked terminal. 

He tries to say something about “privacy” but I can’t hear him. I can’t _not_ read a terminal, especially if it has no password.

I immediately regret what I find; dozens of journal entries written by Phyllis over the past few months litter the screen. One that was from the other day was particularly concerning.

> _I tried again to end it._
> 
> _I was out on the wharf trying to look through the fueling station when I glanced at the water. Samuel was there in the reflection, and my arm was around him. _
> 
> _I heard a noise behind me, and when I turned back to the water, my reflection’s eyes were glowing red. It’s mouth opens and I hear static that built into a scream. It puts the gun to Samuel’s head and pulls the trigger._
> 
> _I can still feel some water in my lungs, but their programming won’t let me end it. My body climbed to the shore on its own._

“Jesus” I whisper, and Nick’s shocked face mirrors my own. “I’m glad we got to her when we did. This was written just the other day”. 

_How am I gonna sleep now?_

After a few moments of contemplation, I locate the bed in the corner of the room, and force myself to get underneath it’s blankets. “You happy now?” I sneer, and Nick chuckles. “Yes, I am. Get to sleep, kid”. 

His plan to combat my insomnia backfired, for I spent the next hour lying awake staring at the wall. “You still up, Andie?” I hear Nick whisper softly.

I roll over onto my right side and spot him resting on an old armchair by the terminal. “Yeah, I can’t sleep” I reply.

 _I can’t get my mind off those journal entries_. “Maybe I could read you a bed time story” He smiles, and I laugh. “Have any good ones?”.

With a quick push of the armchair, he’s soon seated next to my bed. “I have something in mind. Do you know the story of how I came to live in Diamond City?”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I accidentally made some OCs in the form of some of the Railarod agents! I mentioned 20 names in that short intro sequence, and I imagine there’s ten more or so that are unnamed that Orion never really meets. When Switchboard was still their HQ, I imagine they had closer to 60 people in their ranks. Now they’re around ~30 people. I was like “let’s add some background characters and their codenames to show how many different people are coming up to Orion!” and I realized that I’ve just created 20 OCs.
> 
> In cut content for the game, along with sending Phyllis to the Minutemen, you can get her killed by Convenant or by the Institute’s SRB- She can also be helped out by the Railroad! I had already planned for Carrington to assign the task of helping her for Orion, but when I searched for dialogue reference videos, I found the cut content and saw that this used to be an ACTUAL option!


	5. The Awful Truth

The soft notes of Debussy’s piano suite, _Clair de Lune_ , emit from my Pip-Boy as Tinker Tom calibrates the molecular transporter. “It’s a fitting song for a midnight foray into enemy territory, don’t ya think?” I chuckle darkly, and Nick rolls his eyes.

“Maybe.. if the moon was a little more visible” He remarks, and I glance at the sky. The cold December air swept large clouds across the horizon, barely allowing glimpses at the waning crescent‘s soft light.

A shiver runs down my spine as the wind picks up. “I hope the Institute isn’t as cold as it is out here” I mutter, shoving my hands into my jacket’s pockets and stepping closer to Nick.

I can feel the heat radiating off his internal processor like a small fireplace; his hydraulics needed to maintain a certain temperature range, or they’d freeze up. “Maybe if you actually propped your dang collar up..” He mutters, his fingers reaching up to adjust the leather material.

But his fingers don’t let go after finishing the task, and I raise my head in intrigue. “Please be careful, Andie” He whispers, his anxiety tangible like his lingering hands.

“I will, Nick. I’ll try to be back with Shaun as soon as I can” I reply, but his gray face still doesn’t relax. “The others and I will be waiting here for you, okay?” His yellow eyes staring intently at me, and I nod.

“I want you to know that-“ He tries to say, but Tinker Tom cuts him off with a yell. “We’re in business, Whisper!” His pitch high with excitement, and my body turns towards the platform.

“You can tell me after, Nick. I’ll be back soon” I remark, and I give him a lopsided smile. Nick tries to return the expression, but his eyes still betray his concern.

“We got activity, Dez. Not sure how long before it peaks” Tinker Tom comments, his hands flying across his keyboard. Sunset and Dawn stand a few feet away, their stares glued to a monitor displaying numerical readings.

Desdemona walks over from her smoking against one of the mailboxes by the curb, and she puffs a tendril of smoke into the air.

“The Institute is a huge unknown. Before we can make any plans, you need to do something. What I’m about to tell you is the most closely guarded secret the Railroad has. It’s time you learn about Patriot” She states, and she presses something plastic into my hands. It’s a holotape. “Patriot?” I question.

“There’s a person inside the Institute who helps synths escape to freedom. Dozens of synths owe Patriot their lives. We don’t know their name, as we’ve never had a way to contact them. So we gave them that codename” She elaborates, pointing to the holotape.

“If the plan works, and you’re able to get inside the Institute, we need you to make contact. Tom’s encrypted a message on that holotape for Patriot’s eyes only. Once they see it, they should contact you. You need only to stick it inside any Institute terminal for it to work”. I shove the plastic cartridge in one of the internal pockets of my jacket.

“We don’t know what’s waiting for you, Whisper. If you make it at all” She continues, her voice trailing off darkly. _Thanks for the optimism_.

“You’re going to have to think on your feet to stay in their good graces. We need you to infiltrate them for us. Can you do that? Can you be our agent on the inside?” Desdemona presses, and I nod my head. “You can do this. I believe in you” She adds, her eyes shifting towards Tinker Tom. “Tom?”.

“Booting up the scan sequence as we speak. This frequency is only going to work once. You-Know-Who doesn’t make the same mistake twice” He relays, and he gestures towards the transport’s platform.

As soon as I take my place in the center of the large metal circle, I hear a set of beeps come from his terminal.

“Stand still so we can lock in all those molecules of yours. Hopefully we won’t miss any... There’s only, ya know, 60 trillion of them” He jokes, and I roll my eyes.

“All right, feeding our baby some juice. Let’s see what she’s got” The man continues, and I feel the platform begin to vibrate.

A hum not unlike tinnitus fills my ears, drowning out the Pip-Boy’s stereo, and pain behind my forehead makes my eyebrows scrunch up in response. “Don’t worry! That’s... all part of the plan” He chuckles nervously.

“Tom!” Desdemona yells, and she turns to look at me. “Do whatever you can to gain their trust! Lie, tell them what they want to hear! Make up a cover story and sell it!” She exclaims, and I look behind her to see Nick. His face is torn up with fear.

“I think I got it! Establishing lock on the Institute signal” Tom interjects, and the hum grows louder. “Just get all the information you can. About synths, about the Institute’s plans! Find their weaknesses!” I hear Dez continue before the noise completely drowns her out, but all I can see is Nick’s eyes glowing in the darkness.

“Find a way to save them. Nobody else can” is the last thing I hear before the world fades into a haze of blue and white.

The only thing familiar that remains is the classical music, echoing in the small metal chamber that I find myself in. With a quick spin of a dial, I switch off the radio and take in my surroundings.

An empty control terminal sits right outside the transport, and I reach inside my utility belt for a knife. It’s eerily silent.

 _Where is everyone? It may be late but there should be at least SOMEONE._ After getting into a crouch, I make my way around the computers towards the end of the room.

“Hello” A voice resonates, and I flinch so hard that I almost fall to the floor.

“I wondered if you might make it here. You’re quite resourceful” The voice continues, and I realize that it’s coming from an intercom system. “I am known as Father. The Institute is under my guidance”.

I creep down a set of stairs to find a transparent elevator shaft waiting at the bottom. “I know why you’re here. I’d like to discuss things with you, face-to-face. Please, step into the elevator” Father states, and I hesitantly shuffle inside.

A million possible scenarios run through my head as the door closes shut behind me. _Relax, Orion_. “I can only imagine what you’ve heard, what you think of us” He continues, the elevator lowering automatically.

“I’d like to show you that you may have... the wrong impression”. In an instant, the transparent wall of the elevator allows me a view of a massive complex.

“Welcome to the Institute” He announces, and I feel my mouth gape in fear at the sight of it all as I remove my sunglasses. I can feel my hands shaking.

 _It feels... It feels like a Vault. This whole place is gleaming yellow and white just like one_.

“This is the reality of the Institute. This place, these people, the work we do. For over a hundred years, we’ve dedicated ourselves to humanity’s survival”. An atrium filled with greenery comes into my line of sight as the elevator continues its vertical descent.

“Decades of research, countless experiments and trials...A shared vision of how science can help shape the future” Father comments, and I feel a chill run down my spine.

 _But science can go too far; that’s what led to the resource crisis and the bombs_. “It has never been easy, and our actions are often misinterpreted by those above ground” He continues, and my face scowls. _I guess that’s one way of putting it_.

The elevator stops in a small room connected to a hallway. “Someday, perhaps, we can show them what we’ve accomplished. But for now, we must remain underground” Father laments, and my blood runs cold.

 _Underground? Did he say underground? Is this place like an actual fucking Vault? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck_. The glass door slides open and I nearly run to escape the small space.

My hand clenches around my knife as I try to follow where the hallway leads. _Oh god, another elevator._

“There’s too much at stake here to risk it all. As you’ve seen, things above are... unstable. I’d like to talk about what we can do... for everyone” He adds, and all I can think about is how I want this elevator to go faster so my claustrophobia doesn’t kick into overdrive.

“But that can wait. You are here for a specific, very personal reason. You are here for your son” Emotion finally makes it’s way into his tone, and I feel my heart dare to hope. When I turn the corner after leaving the elevator, I almost drop my knife.

“Shaun?” I whisper, glimpsing his form behind a pane of glass. I run up to the wall, stowing my knife away in a pocket so I can press my hands against the transparent surface.

“Oh my god, it’s really you”. The boy looks up at the sound, and I feel my breath catch in my throat.

 _He really does have his hair_. The golden blonde hair he inherited from Robert was combed neatly to one side, and he had _my_ blue eyes.

“Who... who are you?” Shaun asks, confusion heavy in his voice. “You don’t know me, but I’m... I’m your...” I stammer, trying to decide what to tell him.

“Father? What’s going on? What’s happening?” He cries, backing away from the glass. “Shaun...” I choke out, tears forming in my eyes.

“I don’t know you! Go away! Father? Father, help me! There’s someone here!” He shrieks, his expression panicked.

“Shaun... S9-23 Recall Code Cirrus” A voice commands, and I glance to my right to see an old man in a lab coat.

I look back at Shaun, and he’s slumped over on his feet. _Is... is_ _he a synth?_ “Fascinating, but disappointing. The child’s responses were not at all what I anticipated” He remarks, and I feel rage beginning to boil my blood.

“What did you do to him?” I snarl, holding back the urge to press my knife to his throat.

“He’s a prototype, you must understand. We’re only just now beginning to explore the effects of extreme emotional stimuli” He informs me, a curious look in his eyes. His bright _blue_ eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?” I whisper, feeling the anger shift into fear. _Why does he have my eyes?_

“Under the circumstances I will forgive your... vulgarity. Please try and keep an open mind. I recognize that you are emotional, and that your journey here has been fraught with challenges” He pleads, his hands waving to emphasize this.

The man straightens the collar of his sweater vest and clears his throat. “Let’s start anew. I am Father, and welcome to the Institute” He declares, a look of pride twinkling in _my_ eyes.

“Where is the real Shaun?” I force out, trying to maintain my composure. “I know, I know. You’ve gone to such lengths to find him” Father replies solemnly, his face showing a hint of sadness.

“But I need you to realize that this... situation... is far more complicated than you could have imagined. You have traveled very far, and suffered a great deal, to find your son. Well, your tenacity and dedication have been rewarded” With his further elaboration, my breath hitches in understanding.

_No..._

“It’s good to finally meet you, after all this time. It’s me. I am Shaun” He states, his lips forming a small smile. “No...” I murmur aloud.

_No no no._

“I know this is a lot to take in. In the Vault, you had no concept of the passage of time...” He tries to explain, but I already know.

_Why?_

The walls of the room suddenly feel too small, claustrophobia sinking it’s claws into me.

 _Why does my life keep getting ruined underground?_ I turn around to find a way out.

 _I need to get out of here_.

“Mother?” He calls out, but I ignore him.

_No no no no no!_

Through an open doorway, I see a wide spiral staircase. I run towards it as my anxiety begins to kick in.

 _Gotta get outside, gotta get outside_.

Taking the steps two at a time, I scramble through another doorway into the atrium I saw from the elevator. Twisting and turning my head, searching for a way out, I find nothing but tall gray walls.

 _Fuck_.

I walk through the low-hanging tendrils of a large willow tree as I try to slow my shallow breathing, but as I try to lose myself in the curtain of leaves, I recoil in horror at the sensation. _It’s plastic. Of course it’s fucking plastic_.

My chest constricts. I can’t breathe. Panic takes over as I struggle to get air into my lungs.

_It’s fake. All of this shit is fake. Even my son was fake. Fake, fake, fake!_

I slump to the ground as I continue hyperventilating.

_Is anything real?_

My vision spots with black. I can’t breathe. Spasms and cramps radiate throughout my chest. It feels like I’m dying.

_Is anything fucking real?_

_Am I ever waking up from this nightmare?_

“Are you all right?” Someone asks, and I lift my gaze to see who they are. A man with curly ginger hair stands over me, his head tilted in concern.

“Your breathing is erratic. Do you need assistance?” He inquires. “M-m-maybe” I struggle through chattering teeth, vainly attempting to slow my breathing.

Remembering with sudden clarity, I request something: “Tell me e-everything is g-going to be a-all r-right”. His eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“P-please” I beg. “Everything is going to be all right” He repeats after me, and I close my eyes. I take a shuddering deep breath. “A-again” I ask.

“Everything is going to be all right”.

“Again” A long inhale and exhale.

“Everything is going to be all right”. Another deep breath, and another.

We repeat this exchange several more times before I’m able to take in air without shaking. “Why did you ask me to do that?” His face alight with curiosity.

“It’s something my husband would do to calm me down” I reply, my voice raspy.

“I’m glad that I was able to help you with that” He says with a small smile. I can feel my torso finally relaxing from the cramping.

“So, who are you?” I question, rising to my feet. They’re several inches taller than me. _Are all synths super tall?_ “I’m-“.

“B2-17! You are not authorized to be outside the synth quarters at this time” Someone commands, and I see fear develop in the man’s eyes.

“I9-82 injured themselves while replacing broken centrifuge components in the BioScience laboratories, so Chief Engineer Filmore t-tasked me with their custodial duties tonight, sir. I had just finished sweeping the catwalks” He stammers, and I turn around to see an even taller man approaching from the elevator.

The man’s black uniform flashes brightly against the white surroundings, and sunglasses cover their dark-skinned face. My heart skips a beat. _He’s a Courser._

“Hmm. Regardless of your last-minute assignment, you were made aware of Father’s announcement for an early curfew tonight, no?” The stranger states icily. B2-17 seems to be at a loss of what to say.

Without missing a beat, I step in. “He was just helping me. I wasn’t feeling well” I explain, moving in front of the synth. “I’m well aware, ma’am. That is why I am here to escort you to your living quarters” He retorts.

“My living quarters?” I reply in confusion, but he looks past me at B2-17. “Go to the synth quarters immediately” He commands, and the redhead bows his head nervously.

“R-right away, sir” The synth stutters, and he leaves without another word. The Courser turns towards me again. “If you’ll follow me...” He states, starting towards a large building.

I hesitantly follow behind him. After ascending the staircase, he stops at the second landing and steps down a short hallway.

“These will be your living quarters here in the Institute, ma’am” He declares in front of a doorway. As he turns to leave, I grab his wrist. “Why was a _Courser_ sent to find me? Did Shaun... not want to himself?” I ask, my voice tapering off towards the end.

_Does he even care about me?_

The man’s head twists to look at me. “To put it bluntly, Father was expecting you to put up a fight, ma’am. He is not trained for combat, but I am” His wrist snapping free of my grasp. “I am X6-88, one of the Synth Retention Bureau’s top Coursers”.

He moves towards the stairs. “I hope you will not cause trouble around here, for your sake and mine” X6-88 threatens softly, not turning around as he speaks. I feel goosebumps on my arms as I watch him disappear around the corner.

The door slides to a close behind me as I step cautiously into the room. It’s too... neat. A small white couch and table are positioned to my left, and a desk with a terminal is against the back wall.

The bathroom takes up residence in a corner of the room, hidden behind a wall, and I make a mental note to use the shower at some point.

A twin sized bed sits behind a divider to my right, and a dresser accompanies it. _A terminal, eh? I hope it’s not bugged, or that at least Tinker Tom made this holotape’s program undetectable by the Institute’s main servers_.

I remove my rifle from my back to lay on the table along with my utility belt, and hang my bag on the back of a desk chair. Sitting down, I retrieve the plastic cartridge from my jacket and nudge it into the computer’s external storage slot.

It slides in without difficulty, and I wait as the screen boots up to an encrypted chat room.

And I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

I glance at my Pip-Boy’s clock. _It’s almost 2am, I bet Patriot’s asleep right now._ My eyes gravitate towards the bed. _I don’t really feel like sleeping right now. I’m too nervous being here._

I dig through my bag for my small leather notebook, and I begin documenting the latest occurrences in my life.

When my Pip-Boy reads 4am, I decide to take a shower. Turning the water valve to the left, I grab a towel from a nearby cabinet as I wait for the water to warm. After removing my clothes, I nearly forget to unstrap the Pip-Boy from my arm.

 _Wait a second_. Using one hand, I turn on the radio. The striking piano notes of Beethoven’s _Für Elise_ whisper from the speaker, and I rest the device on top of the cabinet.

Before heading into the small glass stall, I turn off the lights. I can’t shower in the dark as often as I’d like nowadays.

A contented sigh escapes from my lips as the hot water melts the soreness from my muscles. When I crack open my eyes after a while of basking in it, my hands automatically grab the provided shampoo from a shelf to begin scrubbing my hair clean.

 _Shaun’s an old man now, and I hardly even know him. I still don’t understand how this isn’t all a dream_. _How is this happening?_

I get lost in the music and sensations of the water as I think. Beethoven turns to Strauss, then Chopin, then Tchaikovsky before I finally ease out of their trance to dry off.

_How am I going to take down the Institute when my son is their leader?_

Now wearing the clean clothes from my pack, I lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling to the melody of _Swan Lake_. A maelstrom of ideas race through my head as the radio switches to a movement by Grieg.

The pull of sleep makes my eyelids heavy after the music completely blends into background noise, and I almost give in to it’s temptation.

But when I hear the faint ding of the computer’s notification alert, I nearly slip on the linoleum floor as I rush to see the message.

“ _Acknowledged. Meet at the Advance Systems supply room this Saturday at noon_ ” is Patriot’s response to whatever encrypted text Tinker Tom had sent.

I stare, dumbfounded, at the computer’s time emblazoned into the corner of the screen after I eject the holotape. _It’s 6am already?_

A knock at the door makes me flinch, and I nearly throw the holotape at the wall. After placing it swiftly inside my bag, I walk towards the entryway with caution.

A panel of buttons next to the metal frame catches my attention, and I press one labeled “unlock”. It whooshes open to reveal Shaun standing on the other side. I freeze.

“I wasn’t sure you would be awake” He comments quietly, his face showing a hint of surprise. I don’t know what to say, so I choose to anxiously stare at my hands.

“I want to apologize about earlier. I should have expected an... adverse reaction to the situation” He continues awkwardly, and I sigh at his formal wording. _Is he capable of turning off his intellectual vocabulary?_

“That’s one of way putting it. ‘Parent has meltdown over learning that their only child grew up without them, all while they were a popsicle in a Vault’” I respond wryly, my face souring.

He sighs. “I don’t think I can say anything that would ease your mind about it” Shaun confesses, averting his gaze for a few moments.

“What are you going to do with... S9-23?” I question softly. “You mean the child? It’s a fascinating project, really. There are issues to be solved, of course, but we’ve made remarkable progress” He perks up, his eyes glowing with intrigue.

 _I guess we have scientific curiosity in common.._.

“Why build it to look like you?” I press. “We’d advanced the technology behind synths to a point where this struck me as an interesting variation” He elaborates, his speech getting faster.

“A new angle, if you will. Modeling it after myself seemed only natural, with all the Institute records on my genetics and physiology”. I do a double take.

“The Institute’s _what_?” I demand, and Shaun sighs. “There’s a reason why the Institute rescued me from the Vault” He answers, walking past me into the room.

I bristle at his words. _Rescued?_ “At that time, the year 2227, the Institute had made great strides in synth production. But it was never enough. Scientific curiosity, and the goal of perfection, drove them ever onward. What they wanted was... the perfect machine” He explains, taking a seat on the sofa.

“So they followed the best example thus far: the human being. Walking, talking, fully articulate, and capable of anything”.

Sick understanding dawns upon me. “So they stole you for a science experiment. The Dr. Frankensteins couldn’t stop themselves, could they? They didn’t stop to think of the ethical implications of ripping an infant child from the arms of their recently killed parent, did they?” I growl, my body beginning to tremble.

_They killed my husband because he “got in the way” like it was nothing! Nothing! How could he be okay with this?_

“I forget that it’s been such a short time for you since this all happened” Shaun says sympathetically, trying in his own fucked up way to help me feel better, but all I feel is pure _rage_.

“I need some time to clear my head” I force through clenched jaws, and I begin gathering my belongings. Shaun shakes his head exasperatedly. “Why must you so illogically succumb to your emotions?” He sighs.

“Because they’re what make me human” I declare as I walk out of the room. A laugh erupts from him as the door closes behind me. _I can’t fucking believe this shit._

_What does he think I am, a kid throwing a tantrum?_

I stomp down the staircase and find myself faced with large crowds of people going about their morning. When they see the look on my face, the residents nearly fall over as they all scramble to get out of my path.

I slam my hand against the elevator call button, and I tell myself to hold it together for just a little bit longer.

As I angrily circle the interior of the elevator, my fist craves to shatter through the glass walls as it climbs upwards. After making it to the transporter room, I step inside without a second thought. With the press of a button, the atoms inside my body begin to shift.

My eyes are blinded by the early morning sun as I find myself back in Sanctuary. “She’s back!” I hear someone shout.

I fish my sunglasses out of my pocket. _Leave me alone_. A chorus of yells erupt around me like a swarm of paparazzi.

“What happened?”

“Did they hurt you?”

“Where’s your son?”

“What was it like?”

The cacophony of words buzz in my ears like tinnitus. I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Andie, are you okay?” Nick asks, and after a tight shake of my head, I feel hot tears streak down my cheeks.

“My son... he’s... he’s an old man now. He’s also the leader of the Institute” My face twisting with grief. I could have heard a pin drop.

“Thank you for helping me find him” I add, trying to let the appreciation glaze over the surge of anger inside me as I look into his eyes.

“I’m... I need some space” I mutter, turning to leave. My feet carry me out of the neighborhood before the anger hits me completely, and I let it consume me as I run towards the ruins of Boston.

To be lost in the _only_ thing that proves humanity, good and bad, is thriving after the bombs. Real and tangible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fyi, the reason why I make such a big deal about Orion’s eye color is because 1) they’re based off mine 2) my eyes are complimented on like, ALL the time so I think they’re a pretty unique shade of blue for Orion to notice when someone has the exact same shade lol (linking a picture of em here) https://travisplaybutcherpete.tumblr.com/post/187088005372/fyi-my-oc-orion-has-my-eyes-i-fixate-on-them-in
> 
> This chapter was going to be wayyy longer (it was going to be about Orion’s entire stay at the Institute) before I realized that the title of the next chapter fits very well for the subject matter I had planned for the latter half of this chapter and the next 👀


	6. The Most Dangerous Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6782 words! I planned on this chapter being extra long but I physically hate having them be that long lol. So I'm just increasing the chapter count to 8 now!
> 
> Content warning for gory/creepy Pickman shenanigans

I grimace at the sight of rubbish cluttering the streets. _Nick always said that I shouldn’t go northeast of Goodneighbor, that it’s crawling with Raiders. I’m looking forward to the target practice_.

After turning left at an intersection, I see four Raiders standing guard in a small space between two buildings. _Bingo_.

Three of their heads are sitting ducks for my throwing knives, while the fourth one requires a chest shot from my rifle. I step over their bodies without a second glance, and kick open the ajar front door of a building with my boot.

Two Raiders deep in conversation turn towards me as I enter. Two shots of my rifle and they’re dead. As I take in my surroundings, a large room to my left piques my curiosity.

 _What the..?_ My grip on my rifle slackens, and it hangs by it’s strap as I take a stunned look around the space.

A macabre display of decapitated heads on wooden spikes accompanied by their bodies on separate stakes lays in the center, and my eyes struggle to avoid staring at the copious amounts of _blood_ on the floor. I rip my gaze to the walls instead, and it’s somehow an even more horrible decision.

A collection of paintings line the room, their subjects being people in various states of cruel torture. Severed eyes, impaled throats, and cleaved heads were a few of the more... _tolerable_ examples.

I back away from an image of a disembowelment and hear my foot kick something across the floor. As I search for the object, I find it laying near a pile of viscera and human bones. With a hesitant motion, I shove it inside my Pip-Boy for a listen.

“ _Seth, it’s me. I found out what happened to the scouts that went missing up near the old art gallery_ ” The audio begins, a man whispering into the microphone.

“ _They’re... they’re dead, Seth. I was lookin’ at a... a goddamn painting of Kyle’s body! Oh god, what the hell did they do to him?_ ” He continues, his voice rising in horror.

A door slams in the background, and it’s followed by a string of muttered curse words. Eventually, the sound of humming emanates from the speaker. After what feels like eons, I hear a startled gasp.

“ _Admiring my collection? I’m afraid it’s not complete yet. Soon, though_ ” Someone else says, a sing-song inflection to their voice.

“ _Stay away from me, you psycho!_ ” The narrator replies, and I hear the sounds of a scuffle. “ _Yes, just like that. Hold that expression on your face..._ ” The soft voice speaks again.

The holotape ends abruptly after the sounds of an agonizing yell. _Where... where the fuck am I? Who created these... things? I don’t really see a problem with killing Raiders, but the sadistic pleasure taken in making their bodies into art is... unnecessary to say the least._

The yelling of Raiders on the floor above sends a bolt of terrified adrenaline through me. “Pickman, the boys found your little secret entrance! It’s just a matter of time!” A man yells.

“You hear me, Pickman? You’re a dead man!”. Sneaking my way up the old set of stairs, I watch as a group of Raiders break through a hole in the wooden wall of a nearby room.

The mass of bodies surge through the gap like a colony of rats, and I listen to them screech with bloodlust as they disappear through a corridor that was hidden in the walls. _I guess I’ll follow them if I want to get to the bottom of this “Pickman” character, as much as I’d like to leave_.

Ducking into the haphazardly-made opening, I follow the pipes through the narrow passageway. It ends in a dark pit that I presume leads to a basement, and after several moments of hesitation, I slide down into it.

“Finally got you, Pickman” A voice growls excitedly as I approach the cave full of an intersection of sewer pipes. “Thought you could hunt down and torture our people to your heart’s content”. Looking over a ledge, I see three Raiders circled around a man holding a gun to someone’s throat.

“I’m gonna enjoy killing you” The man continues with a laugh, his free hand holding a machete. Something about the serial killer’s predicament stirs a weird feeling inside me.

 _Is this... sympathy? Sympathy for a devil?_ Before I can think further, my fingers are already reaching inside my utility belt for throwing knives. As they make their fatal marks in two of the Raiders’ heads, I push off the overhang towards the remaining duo.

A few bullets from my pistol take down another, and I rush towards the man with the machete. He shoves Pickman to the ground, and sweeps the broad blade towards my legs.

I jerk my body to the side to avoid being slashed, but a sharp sting happens nonetheless as it rips through the denim on my thigh. _Shit_. The Raider laughs as I back up against a wall to assess the damage. _Just a cut, nothing major_.

“That’s a nice coat you got there. Wonder what’s hiding underneath” He leers, and a jet of anger overwhelms my concern of the injury. I charge him backwards into a metal sewer pipe, and stab one of my larger knives into his chest. Multiple times.

“Fuck you” I spit, shoving the blade into his head. His body crumples to the ground, and I lean against the pipe where it once stood to catch my breath.

“That was close, thank you” A sickly sweet voice utters, and I turn my head to see Pickman slowly making his way towards me, his footsteps light as feathers.

I feel my heart catch in my throat as he stops just inches in front of my face, his blue-gray eyes catching the low light beautifully. _He’s way too close for comfort_.

“Those people deserved worse than death” The man comments scornfully with an annoyed glance towards the dead Raiders lying on the ground. He dusts off the dirt from his pale brown suit.

“Why... why did they want you so badly?” I ask without thinking, his hypnotizing eyes snapping back to me. “A small disagreement. They objected to my hobby of collecting their heads” Pickman replies nonchalantly, his unusual cadence making his voice as melodic as a lullaby.

“Let me repay you. Only a gift, nothing more. If you visit my house again, look deep within my painting ‘Picnic for Stanley’. There, you will find my gratitude” He declares, removing something from his coat pocket to place in my hand.

It’s a key, and on the chain is a body-less Vault Boy head. _Oh god_. Before I can say anything, his hand strokes the wound on my outer thigh. I stiffen as I watch him lick the blood from his fingers, the movement as calculated as a snake.

“You’re just like me, a true visionary with knives” The murderer purrs, stepping even closer to me. _I’m nothing like you!_

“What a shame that I can’t add a fine specimen such as yourself to my collection. I wouldn’t dare hinder a fellow artist’s work” Pickman laments with a sigh, his gaze studying every inch of my body before stopping at my face.

“And you have such beautiful eyes...” He murmurs thoughtfully, before his eyes widen in realization. “I think one gift may not be enough”. He suddenly turns around to walk into a nearby tunnel.

“I hope to see you around, killer” Pickman sings over his shoulder, and I’m left wondering what the hell just happened. I feel nauseous, and my knife feels heavy in my hands _._

 _Am.. am I like him?_ I shake my head to clear my thoughts. _No, you’re not. Raiders do nothing but harm people, you’re doing the Commonwealth a favor._

When I enter Sanctuary under the afternoon sun, I see Nick hurrying down the street towards me. Before he can say anything, I wrap my arms around his torso without a second thought.

“How.. how are ya feeling?” He asks quietly, his internal fans whirring as his body heats up. I appreciate the warmth since the sun isn’t providing much.

“I don’t know. I’m gonna have to go back in there and be a spy in a place that my _son_ is the leader of. I’m not ready for it, but what else am I gonna do?” I sigh, burying my face in his shoulder. Resisting the urge to cry, I force myself to separate from Nick.

“I have to meet Patriot tomorrow, and I think that Shaun’s going to want me to stay inside the Institute. He might let me leave on occasion, but...” My shoulders drooping in resignation as I stare at the ground. “It’ll be okay, Andie. This won’t last forever” He assures me, and I hope that he’s right.

“You’ll want to introduce yourself to the Division Heads: there’s Dr. Filmore of Facilities, Dr. Ayo with the SRB, Dr. Holdren from BioScience, and Dr. Li in Advanced Systems” Shaun elaborates as he glances outside the window of his quarters.

“Where did they all get their accreditation from?” I joke, wondering what his reaction will be. He merely rolls his eyes.

“They’ve all been notified of your arrival, of course. Everyone was, with your angry departure to the Commonwealth earlier this morning” He responds bitterly, and now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Meet them, and we’ll discuss what comes next”.

Assuming that his silence serves as my dismissal, I leave the room to find them. At the bottom of the staircase, two women stand in front of a motionless Gen-2 synth.

“Almost done. Just need to tighten up this primary drive servo. This is the third primary drive breakdown this month” The one in the yellow lab coat says, her hand deep inside the synth’s chest cavity. “As far as I’m concerned, the phase-out on these older models can’t come soon enough”.

The other woman shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, I don’t know. Most of them have lived long past their projected life spans, Dr. Filmore” She responds, and my mind drifts to Nick being somewhere close to a century old.

 _Wait, did she say Dr. Filmore?_ As I step closer to the two scientists, the head of Facilities finally notices me. “Well well well. They weren’t kidding, you really are here. I’m Allie, Allie Filmore. You can think of me as the Institute’s Chief Engineer” The hand she extends covered in black grease. I have no trouble accepting it, from one engineer to another.

“When Father told us about you, I could hardly believe it. You’ve been through so much, I think most people would have given up” Her voice filled with awe. “If you don’t mind me asking, what was it that kept you going all that time?”.

My shoulders sag. “Honestly? I just wanted to find my son and keep him safe” I reply with a sigh, and her eyes shine sympathetically.

“I’m a mother too, so I understand. Now that you’ve found him, I hope you’re proud of the great man he grew up to be” She smiles, and I struggle to mirror the expression.

_How can I be proud of someone who I’ve never even met, let alone my son who was stolen from me and raised without my input?_

“Because our work is never finished, I’ll give you a quick run-down of the Facilities division, and then I’ll answer any questions you might have” Filmore adds, the other scientist handing her a cloth to clean off her greasy hands.

The engineer seals up the synth’s chest, and pats the paneling in place for good measure. “Unit, you can return to duty” She declares, and the synth’s eyes glow back to life.

“Thank you, ma’am” They respond, and begin walking towards an unknown destination. “Does everyone in Facilities know how to repair synths?” I ask curiously. _Maybe I could learn how to help Nick with the missing plastic on his body_.

“Most do. It’s part of Facilities’ many ever-changing responsibilities. Usually Robotics are tasked with this sort of thing, but they’ve been swamped with creating more and more Gen-3s” She explains.

“Our central tasks in the Institute is the maintenance of it’s mechanical and electrical systems. We’re also accountable for upgrading all of the apparatuses that make it possible to live and work in a place like this”.

“There’s a lot of machinery behind these walls that send air, water, and electricity all over the Institute. We have countless laboratories, offices, and living quarters to keep an eye on” My eyes widening in awe at the realm of influence in her division.

“The work we do might not be as exciting as some of the other departments, but it’s at least _as_ important” The engineer smiles exasperatedly, most likely not expecting someone to be interested.

“But it is exciting! I’m an engineer myself, you know” I clarify, lifting my leather jacket to reveal the utility belt on my waist.

 _I’m glad I decided to leave most of my knives back in Sanctuary and put actual tools in this. The less weapons on me, the more friendly I’ll seem_.

I pull my favorite screwdriver from one of it’s pockets, it’s handle covered in colored duct tape. “This was my good luck charm through all four years of my engineering program” I state proudly.

“A fellow engineer, eh? Did you know the Institute was formed by students and staff of the Commonwealth Institute of Technology?” Her eyes shining with pride.

“Their descendants constructed the Institute over countless generations until it became what you see today. It’s still a process going on today, in fact. We’re digging out tunnels for new facilities and infrastructure as we speak”.

Her gaze shifts towards the nearby atrium. “Just think what this place will look like in a hundred years. I hope I’m there to see it” She murmurs wistfully, and I feel my stomach flip. _I don’t know about that_.

“Who are the people that work under you?” I ask to change the subject. Her eyebrows furrow in concentration. “Dr. Lawrence Higgs is my deputy mechanical engineer. He oversees the major life support and security systems, and power distribution is Dr. Evan Watson’s area of expertise. They both work with Advanced Systems as well as in Facilities”.

“Dr. Newton Oberly is in charge of food along with housing. He also coordinates with BioScience to ensure that our meals are balanced for optimal nutrition” She lists off, before turning to the woman next to her.

“This right here is our newest protégée, Madeline Stephenson. After the students from our school graduate, they are allowed to choose from a wide variety of fields to pursue. She’s currently shadowing me to learn more about our department” The young woman blushing at the introduction.

“We also make use of a number of synths for low-priority maintenance and labor” Filmore adds, and B2-17 comes to mind. “It must be a challenge to meet the power demands of a place like this” I muse, and the engineer laughs.

“Absolutely. We scratch and scrape for every precious ounce of voltage that we can. Over the years, we’ve learned a few tricks that help supplement our power budget. When necessary, we can tap into select sources on the surface. We take only what we need, of course” She explains, and I smile nervously.

 _It shouldn’t be so easy for someone to admit that they steal power from the people of the Commonwealth_.

“Fortunately, Advanced Systems is always working on new solutions to generate more energy. It’s a good thing, too, because the demand is always increasing. You don’t even want to _know_ what a single use of the molecular de-materializer consumes” She smiles, another laugh hiding in her voice. _Ha ha_.

“So, now that you’re here and learning about the Institute, does that mean you’ll be staying with us?” The engineer suddenly asks, and I panic as I think of a response. _If I want to gain their trust..._ “I’m considering it” I reply, forcing a smile onto my face.

“That’s good to hear, it’ll be a load off Shaun’s mind. He’s been expecting you for weeks” She responds. _Really?_

“Take your time, get yourself acquainted. There’s a lot to take in; plenty of things you won’t find top-side” With an understanding nod of her head, she turns to Madeline.

“We should be going if we want to fix those broken power couplings by dinner time” Filmore tells her, and she waves her hand in farewell.

“We’re all looking forward to working with you, ma’am” Madeline says shyly as they walk past me towards another section of the complex.

I internally groan. _I think that’s gonna be something to I’ll have to expect from all these people: gendered terms of politeness._ I suppress my annoyance as I make my way towards the BioScience division.

“Have you had time to examine my latest reports on batch 274?” I hear a man ask as I pass through the sliding doors. “Not yet. I’ve been reviewing Father’s plans to expand our operations at Warwick. He’s eager to get that going, so I’ve had to put everything else to one side” Another replies.

Before I can turn towards the two men, a bulletin board catches my eye. Two notices printed in dark ink are pinned carefully to the cork material. The first one reads:

> _Our monitoring of events on the surface has confirmed that the time is almost at hand. Very soon, our guest will be here. I admit that I feel both hope and trepidation when I think of how our first meeting will go._

_I guess he really was expecting me, huh._ I feel a twinge of guilty on how we didn’t have the most positive of reunions.

> _Please make whatever preparations that you deem necessary. Consider all sensitive information to be classified for the time being. We cannot know for certain what our visitor’s motivations will be, especially after coming into contact with the Railroad._

_Of course they know, isn’t that great? I’ll have to be extra careful when I update them on information in the future._

> _We will exercise caution, but we must also extend a warm welcome to my mother. In time, once a measure of trust has been earned, we can be more forthcoming._
> 
> _I need not remind you all how important this is to me personally, but I want you also to think of the opportunity for the entire Institute. We stand to make a great deal if we make the most of that opportunity._

The note is signed with “ _Father_ ”, but I didn’t need a signature to tell me that. I look to the second note on the board:

> _Now that our guest of honor is here, I want to remind everyone to be polite, accommodating, and welcoming. It’s not often we receive visitors from the surface, and this occasion is more special than most._
> 
> _I know I can count on all of you to extend a hand of friendship and greet our visitor with the utmost hospitality. Let’s embrace this exciting event and make the best first impression we possibly can!_

“ _Chief Bioscientist Holdren_ ” is the labeled author of the notice. _He’s either a very energetic person or a bootlicker_.

I glance over at the two men in conversation. “I wonder how the Warwick family is doing. Young Wally must be close to ten years old by now. It’s remarkable that any child can survive for so long up there” The bald one reflects, cupping his chin with one hand.

“I... try not to think too much about it. We have more than enough to occupy ourselves down here” The other replies, awkwardly scratching below the hairline on his neck.

“Those people are the last remnants of a dying past. It’s best not to dwell on the subject”. My head practically explodes with shock at his brazen apathy.

 _So THERE’S the reason why I hung onto one of my knives_. “They’re still people, and they’re suffering. We can at least admit that’s regrettable” The first man says, and I can tell he’s trying to disguise his compassion underneath a persuasive and logical mask.

“After all, how can we hope to redefine mankind if we can’t even hold onto _our own_ humanity?”. _At least SOMEONE here has some basic compassion for others_.

“Well, that’s a question best left to our colleagues in the Robotics division” The dark blonde replies hastily, his posture uncomfortable.

“Is it though? It’s my understanding that people who study biology would have at least the _tiniest_ shrivel of respect for life, especially human ones” I articulate carefully, inserting as much venom as possible into each word. The bald man smiles smugly as his fellow scientist flinches.

“Ah! W-welcome, ma’am! I didn’t see you there” He stammers, reaching his hand out for a handshake. I stare at it, and I don’t put forth my own.

“Uh, I’m Chief Bioscientist Clayton Holdren! I can’t wait for you to see the work we’re doing, it’s truly amazing” Holdren continues, rescinding his hand awkwardly to gesture around the room.

His prompt causes me to finally take in my surroundings. The room’s filled to the brim with laboratory tables and terminals.

Small observation rooms are built into the walls: some are filled with flora and fauna, while others have testing equipment for studying microorganisms and cells.

I see a staircase leading to a lower level, and a gasp escapes my lips as I near the railing: a _massive_ farm resides on the floor below us.

Under a wide array of lights, hundreds and hundreds of plants in various states of growth occupy rows as far as the eye can see.

I watch as dozens of Gen-2 synths remove a motley of ripened fruits and vegetables from their stalks to place inside spacious baskets.

When they’re filled to the brim, the synths dispense the crops inside collection bins that are lead to nearby elevators. “Those elevators lead to the cafeteria kitchens! The Institute prides itself on it’s efficiency” Holdren explains joyfully.

“As the name implies, the BioScience division specializes in a variety of fields such as botany, genetics, and medicine. Our most important directive is to ensure the health and well-being of everyone in the Institute”.

 _Genetics? So these people and the Robotics division are the ones responsible for Shaun’s kidnapping?_ I try to force all of my anger into a single closed fist to shove inside my jacket pocket.

“To that end, we cultivate highly specialized breeds of flora for use in food and medicine. We’ve even started to explore the idea of synthetic animal life” He elaborates further, pointing to one of the plant-filled observation rooms.

With a more careful look, I spot animals in what I thought were once empty displays.

It was like a zoo. There were horses, chickens, songbirds, rabbits, pigs, sheep, and strangely, _gorillas_. I even saw an exhibit filled with an assortment of colored butterflies.

Next to it, a completely dark room was speckled with the bioluminescence from fireflies. “Are you building an ark?” I mutter under my breath. Holdren laughs a little too loudly.

 _Definitely a bootlicker. Why else would he be in charge rather than that older guy who has more common sense?_ “That’s the dream! Despite the few species we have, the potential is exciting nonetheless” The man responds with a grin.

“I imagine that you must have quite a number of scientists under your supervision” I concede, trying to uncover who works in the genetics department.

 _I don’t think Shaun would mind if I only yelled at ONE group of his scientists_.

“Oh yes” He chuckles. “We have the agriculture department being lead by Dr. Isaac Karlin” The bald man from earlier raising his head from his lab-work at the acknowledgement, “and the zoology experiments are under Dr. Jane Irwin, who also works as the lead of the psychology department”.

Holdren points to a wing of the building to our left. “That’s our medical department down that way, and that’s run by Dr. Dean Volkert” He states, and points to another entrance on the opposite side of the room.

“The sector of genetics is handled by leading geneticist, Dr. Henrietta Ford. Her... _partner_ , Dr. Rosalind Gregor is our current genealogist” His face scrunching up at the term ‘partner’.

 _So he’s a bigot too, that’s good to know_. “Dr. Gregor monitors the population sustainability program that was created by our sociologist Dr. Benjamin Malthus over 40 years ago” The man adds, and my eyes narrow.

“Population sustainability?” I question skeptically. He clears his throat, and I ready myself for a long speech.

“Because the originators of the Institute only measured in the dozens, we’ve brought outsiders into our ranks over the years to diversify the gene pool. But around forty years ago, we began to worry about our population’s age distribution”.

“Very few scientists wanted to raise children when we have so much work to be done, so the replacement fertility rate was frighteningly low”.

“In several decades, our population would reach a point where the elderly would outnumber the young” Holdren presents, clearly having memorized this information. He takes a deep breath before continuing.

“In response, Dr. Malthus devised a program that would help increase the population’s birthrate. Everyone over the age of 21 would consent to providing a one-time sample of their genetic material that we would keep frozen until they turned 55”.

”If they did not have children at that point, we would combine their sperm or ova with a randomly assigned partner’s to create an embryo. We did not yet have Gen-3 surrogates like we do today, so we had to rely on volunteer surrogates” He finishes, and I worry that the color has drained completely from my face.

_Gen-3 surrogates? ‘Volunteer’ surrogates? What the fuck? Now I REALLY need to go yell at these bastards._

“That sounds like a breeding program” I mutter, and he lets out a nervous laugh. “Well, I guess you could call it that. It has been truly instrumental in our survival, however. Even Father participated in the program! His young daughter is quite the curious one” He adds, and my desire to unleash hell on the genetics team vanishes.

“Daughter?” I inquire, my eyes widening in shock. “Oh dear, I thought he had already told you!” He apologizes, and my surroundings blur as I sprint towards the exit.

_I have a granddaughter. I have a fucking granddaughter!_

When I race into Shaun’s living quarters, he’s typing at his terminal and turns in surprise at the squeaking of my boots on the linoleum. “Is something wrong?” He asks, standing up in concern as I catch my breath.

“You have a daughter and you _didn’t_ tell me?” I yell excitedly, snatching his collar to shake him back and forth. He grabs my hands and retracts them from his lab coat.

“Yes, I do. She’s currently in class, so you will need to wait until the school day ends-“ Shaun responds, but I’m already bounding towards the elevator.

When it brings me to the catwalk suspended over the atrium, I move towards the building situated over the cafeteria. I peek at my Pip-Boy’s clock, and 2:45pm gleams back at me. _I hope the school ends at 3..._

Pacing worriedly back and forth along the catwalk, I wait. _What will she be like? Does she resemble Shaun? Robert? Me? Hell, I don’t even know her name!_ A soft tone plays over the intercom system, and my head swivels towards the entrance of the school.

A cluster of teenagers leave first, their conversation cutting short when they spot me standing outside. I ignore them as their voices turn into hushed whispers, continuing my search for this granddaughter of mine.

More teenagers follow, and eventually it gives way to kids around the synth Shaun’s age. _If Shaun is around 60 years old right now, then she should be in kindergarten_.

Finally, a large cluster of children comes bustling out of the school. _What will she think of me? Will we even get along?_ “Hello.. I have a question for you all” I voice nervously to them as the group draws nearer.

Their attention instantly shifts, and ten pairs of eyes are on me. “Which one of you is Sha- I mean Father’s daughter?” I ask, my fingers itching for something to fidget with.

“I am!” A girl exclaims confidently, her face shining with a bright smile. Her light brown hair is tied in a loose side-swept ponytail, and when I look at her eyes, they’re two different colors.

Her right is light blue like mine, but the left is a warm brown. _Wow, she has_ _heterochromia!_ “Can you tell me your name?” I question further, trying to make my tone as friendly as possible. “It’s Halley!” She giggles.

A smile spreads across my face. _Like the comet..._ “Who are you?” Her eyes widening in curiosity. _I’m... God fucking dammit it_. “My name’s Andie, and I’m your grandparent” I respond, my heart swelling at the sound of that term even though I can’t tell her my real name.

“But you look younger than Father!” She blurts out, her jaw open in amazement. I have to stifle a chuckle.

“Didn’t you know? I’m immortal” I joke, and a chorus of ooh’s and wow’s erupt from the group. Several of them immediately start asking a flurry of questions such as “Are you as old as the dinosaurs?” and “Do you still have to eat your vegetables?”.

I spend a few moments giving equally ridiculous answers, and they eat up my responses like candy. _I’m glad kids haven’t changed._

“Alright, alright. You guys can ask me more questions later” I concede, looking towards Halley. “I want to spend some time with my granddaughter, okay?”. The pack of children all excitedly wave goodbye to Halley and I as they leave towards the elevator.

“So, what do you usually do after school? Dinner’s at 6 o’clock, right?” I implore of her, and she makes a thoughtful expression. “I wanna go to the library!” She replies excitedly. _There’s a library here?_

“Why don’t you lead us there then?” I suggest softly, offering my hand to her, and my heart practically bursts when she accepts it.

She slowly guides me towards another section on this floor, and the entrance has regular glass doors rather than automatic metallic ones. The ceiling extends several dozen feet above our heads, and books eagerly fill every square inch of that space in neatly organized shelves.

Medical and engineering textbooks take up almost half of the library, and I struggle to find something that a child could even _remotely_ read.

As we pass by a library receptionist, Halley calls out a greeting. “Good afternoon, C3-28!” She smiles, and I nearly do a double take when I see the receptionist’s face.

 _He looks exactly like..._ “Hi, Miss Halley” The curly haired man replies as he looks up from his book about North American songbirds, before noticing my confused face.

“Are you and B2-17...?” I insinuate, and he laughs. “Yes, they are my identical twin. We’re one of a kind among the Institute’s Gen-3 synth population” His expression lights up with a smile, and I marvel at the complete personality difference between the two.

“Now, I imagine Miss Halley is here for her daily library reading?” The synth continues, and her face bursts into a grin. “I am! I brought my grandparent too!” She announces, and then excitedly drags me towards a corner of the library.

The reason why I couldn’t find any children’s books was because they were an afterthought, tucked away where no one could see them.

There were only two shelves worth of material, and hardly any of them were picture books. I didn’t even _recognize_ any of them. After a few moments of indecision, she plucks a worn paperback from the plastic shelf.

Halley takes a seat on the floor to begin reading, and I take a peek over her shoulder. _‘The Little Scientist That Could’ is the best they could come up with? Instead of getting actual children’s books, they just fabricated their own?_

“Hey, Halley” I ask after a few moments of thinking. Her head snaps up at the sound of my voice. “Do you want me to read you a story that I know you’ve never heard before?”.

Her eyes sparkle like stars at the suggestion. “Yes!” She squeals in enthusiasm, and I grab a nearby chair to sit in.

“It’s called ‘ _The Cat in the Hat’_ , and it was a story read to me when I was your age” I state, and she’s mesmerized as I begin the story.

My voice distinguishes between each character with different inflections and pitches, and she provides a great amount of reactions to all of the hijinks that the Cat causes.

Halley would interrupt with a multitude of questions, and I tried my best to explain why someone might own a “pet fish” or what a “kite” was.

When C3-28 informed us that dinner time was finally approaching, I had narrated several other Dr. Seuss classics such as _Horton Hears a Who!_ , _The Sneetches_ , and _Green Eggs and Ham_.

“They’re serving cake tonight! We gotta hurry!” Halley whines as she ushers me towards the exit. Her short legs scramble to the elevator and I catch up with the girl before she can press the button.

When we enter the cafeteria through one of the grand staircases, I’m immediately frightened by the sheer amount of people filing the enormous space.

The brown color of my leather jacket deviates immensely from the mass of white lab uniforms surrounding me, and I have to stifle my anxiety. I shove my twitching left hand into my jacket pocket and try not to squeeze Halley’s hand with my other.

 _There’s easily over four hundred people in here..._ As my granddaughter and I pass by rows of tables towards the buffet-style serving line, I discover what the Institute’s food looks like.

“Dinner” was solid conglomerates of food, like Pre-War military rations, paired with water or Nuka-Cola. _Why couldn’t they just prepare it like regular food?_

I didn’t have an appetite to begin with, and I had food back in my room from the Commonwealth if I got hungry later tonight. I watched Halley move from one queue to another, and I spot her eagerly receiving the next portion of her meal from a Gen-2 synth.

“They still had cake left!” She grins, presenting her meal tray to me. Even the “cake” didn’t meet visual expectations, as it was just another brick of unrecognizable ingredients.

When she goes to remove a soda from the nearby cooler, I gaze over the sea of people. It doesn’t take long to find who I’m looking for: Shaun and the Division leaders are chatting at their own table, which happens to be on a stage against the longer side of the dining hall.

 _Of course they have to make themselves look even more important_. Shaun looks up from his conversation with Dr. Holdren when the bioscientist waves me over to their table.

Before I can motion back, a tug on my sleeve brings my attention to my side. “The other kids and I want you to sit with us!” Halley beams.

 _Will an “important” adult sitting among children piss off Shaun? Probably. Do I care? Absolutely not_. “I would love to, Halley!” I reply with a grin, letting her pull me towards a specific collection of tables.

The vast majority of the people in the room were middle-age scientists, but there was a small section of tables for those below college-age.

They were divided into four groups of two tables each: young adults, high and middle school teenagers, kids that were almost in double-digit age, and Halley’s group of early elementary students.

Her group was closest to the wall that Shaun’s table rests in front of, while the older students were situated behind us.

We passed by them on our way to her designated eating area, and a few of them gave me the same distrusting looks that they had earlier that afternoon.

As expected, I spotted several flabbergasted and disapproving glances shot my way from the adult section as I positioned myself next to Halley on the bench. As if on a silent cue from her, the kids instantly lit up with excited chattering.

“Hey, what’s it like above ground?”

“Do you eat radroaches?”

“Where do you sleep?”

 _Could I just spend my entire time at the Institute with them?_ I smile. “Firstly, it’s a lot more... open. You can see the sky” I begin, waving my hand to the ceiling. I watch Halley’s eyes light up at the idea as the children gasp in wonder.

“It’s really nice watching the sun rise and set, and the stars are even more beautiful” I add, feeling my shoulders droop at the knowledge that they’ve never seen either of those things.

“Secondly, while I haven’t eaten them myself, a few people have told me that when cooked, radroaches taste like chicken” is met with a chorus of disgusted sound effects. “And to answer that third question, I.. I sleep in my old house” I answer, my face softening.

“Is it big?” Halley questions. “Not really, but there’s a nice backyard that overlooks the creek” I answer, reminiscing about a backyard barbecue the Smith’s hosted for Labor Day.

“What’s a creek?” A kid next to her asks, his hazel eyes wide as he prepares to shovel in a spoonful of food. “It’s like a river, except smaller” I explain, the space between my palms shrinking for emphasis.

“I’ve never heard of a backyard” Another inquires, her head tilted in confusion. “In the suburbs, a lot of houses have a section of unused land behind them. They call that a ‘backyard’” I continue, but my further elaboration only springs up more questions.

“What can you do with a backyard?” Someone farther down the table demands excitedly. “What’s a suburb?” A different kid requests. “Was this all before the bombs? What was that like?” Halley asks, and her question crushes me.

 _I feel like a human time capsule_. _So many things that were a staple of my childhood don’t exist anymore_.

 _They’re never going to experience watching cartoons on television, learning how to ride a bike, or experience the magic of radiation-free nature_.

_That’s all gone. It’s never coming back. I don’t even know if I can say that Pre-War times were better or not, there were still a lot of problems, but they never even had a chance to know what the good things were like._

“I’m... I’m going to get some water real quick, I’ll be right back” I tell them, removing my legs from under the table to lift myself off the bench.

Attempting to keep my melancholic nostalgia from unraveling into something more uncontrollable, I focus on the navy rubber-like floor under my feet. My attempts to avoid bumping into someone fail as I reach the water dispenser near the food tables.

“Oh, I’m sor-” I mutter, looking up to apologize. My eyes meet the disgusted glare of a teenage boy half a foot taller than me and my apology dries up in my mouth.

 _Geez, you look like I murdered your family._ “Watch where you’re going, Commonwealth trash” He sneers, making a point to shove past me as he walks towards the seating area. I roll my eyes. _I don’t have time for petty teenagers_.

With a glass of water in hand, I reclaim my seat next to Halley. “Did you know I had special nicknames for my grandparents when I was your age?” I start, her eyes gravitating to mine in curiosity.

“I think you would prefer something more fun than ‘grandparent’, yes?”. She nods her head eagerly. “Yes, please!”.

After my face scrunches up in deep thought for a few moments, it hits me. I nearly squeal aloud at the idea. “How about you call me ‘RiRi’?” I grin, and she matches my expression at the suggestion. _It’s short for Orion, but no one would ever know that!_

“I love it!” She giggles, her hands clasping together in excitement. _This child’s going to make my time here so much better than it could have been._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I researched WAY too much in demographics. I wanted the Institute to be much larger in terms of population size, like closer to 400 people. But because they're all so science-focused, I imagine that they struggle to maintain their growth rate when people don't want to be "burdened" with kids. So how do you solve that? Morally ambiguous embryo program, babey! I highly doubt most of these IVF babies are raised by their biological parents, even Halley, and that they're raised by adoptive parents.
> 
> I LOVE THE SHIT OUT OF HALLEY AND ORION WOULD DIE FOR HER, SHE'S GONNA BE IN THE SEQUEL ARC FOR SOME AMAZING CONTENT (but now I gotta edit in mentions of her in One More Tomorrow lol)
> 
> Also, every Institute resident's name that isn't from the game? There's meaning behind it. I spliced a lot of them together from various scientific historical figures' names.
> 
> Cat in the Hat was actually created to be a better introduction to the world of reading for children, and Orion did exactly that for Halley by reading her an Actually Good Children's Book
> 
> Another note: I highkey want Pickman to show back up at some point, dunno when but it was FUN writing him


	7. Lost in the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8,270 words! I've been slaving over this chapter for a long while, because there were so many details and plot threads I had to keep track of!
> 
> Content warning for gore/organs and surgical procedures! (did not go into this chapter thinking I'd need to write that, but some ideas just come to you, alright?)

“Mom, Dad... Robert and I h-have something to tell y-you” I announce quietly, my words struggling underneath the weight of my fear. I break eye contact with my parents to look around the room. _Am I really doing this?_

The rainbow lights that adorn the Christmas tree in the corner of the room twinkle brightly in my vision, and the nearby fireplace crackles as it burns.

Turning my head to the left, I catch a thumbs up and encouraging smile from my sister in the kitchen.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

I feel a reassuring squeeze of my hand from Robert as I shift my gaze back towards my parents.

 _God, here goes nothing_.

“There’s no way for me to say this subtly...” I start, forcing myself to look them in the eyes.

“Robert doesn’t find women attractive... he’s into men. So why is he with me? Because I’m r-really a man, not a woman” My voice shaking as I remove my wig to reveal the buzzed hair underneath.

I feel an impulse to leap from the sofa and cast the plastic disguise into the fireplace where it belongs. “I can’t hide who I am any longer, okay?”.

They share a silent glance. “Andie...” My mom says in a hushed tone, and I brace myself for the worst. Before she can continue, a loud explosion puts an end to our conversation.

The walls fold inwards like playing cards as the roof collapses over our heads, burying us under rubble. “Phoebe! Mom! Dad! Robbie!” I yell in intervals, hoping for a reply in the aftermath of it all.

When my eyes finally adjust to the changes in lighting, I attempt to move my body. Pinned underneath large chunks of debris, I hear nothing but emergency sirens in the distant. _Don’t leave me all alone..._

Suddenly, the wreckage begins to shift. It becomes heavier, starting to crush me.

I want to scream in pain, but my lungs refuse to inflate under the force of the rubble on my back.

When I try to gulp down any amount of air, I gag as dust begins clogging my nose and throat.

_I’m being buried alive!_

In one swift motion, the ruins of my childhood home pulverize me into the earth.

I struggle to control my breathing as I jolt awake from the bed. My fingernails threaten to shred the linen sheets to pieces.

In the dead silence of the bedroom, my heart pounds loudly.

 _It’s too small in here_.

Running on pure instinct, I shakily grab my jacket and Pip-Boy after shoving my feet into my boots.

The hallway is just as quiet when the door slides shut behind me, and my left hand clings to the railing on the staircase as I carefully make my way down each step.

 _I never got to know what my parents thought about Robert, about me. About us_.

When I enter the atrium, I gravitate across the plastic grass to the same willow tree from last time.

My breathing’s still ragged as I recline my body against the trunk, so I glance down at my wrist. After adjusting the volume of the device’s speaker with trembling fingers, I rewind my spare copy of Robert’s holotape.

As the cartridge’s magnetic reel resets, I scan the surrounding area. _It’s almost eleven at night, nobody should be up right now_.

I close my eyes after letting the holotape commence it’s playback. Among the fake trees in this fake underground city, I try to relax.

After a few repeats of his voice, now able to take some deep breaths, I open my eyes. “Your name is Orion, and you are actually the father of the Director, not his mother?” B2-17’s curious face peers into mine as he stands a few feet away.

I swear I could feel my soul leave through my agape mouth. _Fuck fuck fuck! God fucking dammit!_

Within seconds, I’m on my feet and I’m dragging the synth forward by his collar underneath the tree with me, the slim branches parting around us as I do so. The broom that he was holding falls to the ground as his head becomes situated inches from mine.

“You have to promise me.. that you won’t tell anyone about this” I demand, my eyes beginning to water as I intensely wait for his reaction.

He’s speechless, and his face is etched with alarm. “I.. I don’t know what would happen to me... if people knew the truth” I whisper fearfully, and I feel a few tears travel down my cheeks as my hands start trembling.

As I retrieve my hands to wipe off my face, something in his expression changes. It’s... _understanding_.

“Please, no more crying. I know how you feel.. sir” B2-17 states softly with a nervous smile. My eyes practically pop out of my head at the honorific. “You... you do?” I murmur excitedly, letting myself hope.

“My.. sister and I have never felt comfortable with our identities. It became more and more apparent as we interacted with fellow residents that we were different, and not just because we were the only twin synths” They elaborate, their eyes glancing towards the ground.

“I asked Dr. Filmore once if growing my hair out past regulations would be acceptable, as I would ensure to tie it back like other residents do, but she laughed in my face. She said that ‘men don’t have long hair’, so my sister and I never dared to express our selves how we always wanted to”.

_I’ve only met one other person like me, and that was such a long time ago... I can’t believe I know two others now!_

“What’s your name then?” I ask instinctively without thinking, and her eyes widen. “I... I have never really thought of one. Synths are very rarely referred by something other than their alphanumeric designation. Since Dr. Filmore did not approve of my request of a longer hairstyle, I doubt that she would even refer to me by new pronouns” She laments with a sigh, her eyes drifting downwards.

“If you’d like, I could come up with a name. For when it’s just the two of us, I could call you that and you call me Orion” I smile softly, and her head snaps up at the suggestion.

“You would do that?” She whispers, and I nod. “You helped me out of a panic attack, so it’s the least I can do” I grin, my hand giving her shoulder a good natured grasp.

Her face lights up with a grateful smile. “Thank you” She adds as I bend down to pick up her broom. “You should probably get back to cleaning before anyone sees us” I respond, handing her the plastic handle. “I’ll see you later.. ma’am”.

After peering through the veil of greenery, I nonchalantly make my way back towards my room.

After an unenthusiastic meeting with Dr. Li about the responsibilities of the Advanced Systems division, I made my way towards their supply room.

I shove the small electronic device that I obtained from Dr. Li into my jacket pocket. _At least now I don’t have to use the teleporter to get in and out of here_.

The door swooshes open to reveal a copious amount of junk-filled metal containers and shelves of broken tools, but no Patriot in sight. I glance at my Pip-Boy.

 _I’m five minutes early... but they should hopefully be here soon_. Not even a moment later, the sound of the door opening makes me spin on my heel to face the entrance.

A man in his early 20’s takes a cautious step into the room, removing his hands from his orange and gray uniform pockets.

“So _you’re_ the one who sent the encrypted message” He declares, his stone blue eyes wide in surprise as he walks towards me in disbelief.

“How did you do that? I didn’t think someone from the surface would have any chance of cracking Trinity. You know, the encryption algorithm”.

“A friend named Tinker Tom cracked your encryption” I reply, and his jaw drops. _Does he not realize that people on the surface are just as smart?_

“He must’ve had some serious hardware to pull that off, wow”, He murmurs excitedly before continuing more loudly, “The message was one word: friend. What did you mean by that?”. I bring my hand up to shield my mouth.

“The Railroad sent me to look for someone they called Patriot. They consider you their ally in helping synths” I elaborate quietly, and I swear the kid’s brain explodes.

“The Railroad? As in _the_ Railroad? And they gave me a code name, too?” His dimples accentuating his amazed smile. “I kept sending synths to the surface hoping someone would help them, but I never knew for certain if the Railroad even _got_ to them”.

“Who are you, and why are you helping synths? I didn’t think many people here would do this sort of thing ” I inquire, somewhat concerned by his nonchalant volume level.

 _We should probably be a little quieter... But I guess he picked this spot for a reason. The kid hasn’t been caught so far_.

“My name’s Liam. Liam Binet. My father’s head of the Robotics division. When I began shadowing under him, I began to realize the amazing complexity of the personalities of our synths, especially so after he helped with creating Eve” Liam explains, and my eyes narrow at that last part.

 _Why such a loaded name?_ “Eve?” I press skeptically. “She’s a personal synth that my father created to be a maternal figure, and it’s part of an experiment to see if synths can integrate into a human family” He clarifies, and I’m reminded of the Galatea and Pygmalion myth. _Weird_.

“I’d say she fits in rather well. She may not be my late mother, but I care about her, even though she’s a synth” Liam adds warmly, and I believe him.

“I started off doing it to see if I could, ya know, get away with it. Like a challenge. When Eve came into the picture, and after spending more time in the lab with these new synths, I realized that they really are just like us, except without any freedom” His face lighting up with eagerness.

“I decided to help the ones that wanted to escape, so they can have a better life”. My brain is filled with a million questions. _Where do I even start?_

“How do you help synths escape?” I ask after settling on one. “I do it through hacking. The departments focus all of their energy on their respective fields. Why waste time on terminal security when you can devote that same precious time to pushing boundaries of science? However, the SRB is the exception, and unfortunately, they control which synths go to the surface” He answers, his face looking tired at the mere mentioning of that division.

“But with a forged work order from, let’s say Bioscience, can get a hand-picked synth on surface detail. We send Gen-3s up all the time for basic resource retrievals” He adds more hopefully.

“And it turns out the Railroad was waiting for them... wow”. _He really was doing this out of the kindness of his heart, huh?_ “You’ve saved a lot of synths over the years” I assure him, and he grins.

“It’s such a relief to hear that. And you know what? With you in the picture, this idea that I’ve had for a while might just work. We could rescue a lot of synths at once” Liam replies, looking deep in thought.

After a few moments, he sighs. “We’ve spent long enough in here as it is, though. Facilities will be coming in for inspections soon. After fleshing out my plan a little more, I’ll contact you again through the encrypted chatroom” He concedes, and his body shifts as he faces the door.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, ma’am” Liam adds over his shoulder, grabbing a busted tool on his way out. _Well, time to go meet the other two division leaders..._

I’ve only just walked into the SRB before a man’s loud voice carries down the corridor.

“Advanced Systems has yet to complete the armor modifications for the quickly approaching Phase 3 AND they’re dragging their feet on the targeting package upgrades I asked for weeks ago” He yells, and I hear the sharp noise of something slamming against the floor.

A large window is to my left, but an opaque screen prevents me from seeing through it. I cautiously continue forward, stopping beside the entrance to the room.

“Maybe I should take some Coursers with me. You know, to send a message” The voice adds with concerning conviction, and I hear a woman sigh.

“Please don’t. There’s enough friction as it is between us and pretty much all the other departments” They state disapprovingly in a monotonous tone.

“You going soft on me, Alana?” The man replies coldly, and I hear her sigh again. “My methods get results, and they will this time. You’ll see” He continues, and that’s when I finally step into the room.

A bald man in a black and white uniform stands off with an unfazed looking blonde-haired woman, and their heads snap towards me when they notice my presence.

“Ah, it’s our special guest” The man greets me coolly, his colleague rolling her eyes at the sudden change in demeanor.

“I am Justin Ayo, the acting director of the Synth Retention Bureau”. _I already don’t like this dude_. “I’ll be up front with you. We’re going to be keeping a close eye on you for the near future. Despite your relation to Father, you’re a bit of a unknown quantity” Ayo says, wasting no time in stating his opinions of me.

 _Are you always this blunt with people you’ve just met?_ “I’m sure you understand. There won’t be any... issues, will there?” He adds, a threat lying beneath the surface of his words.

“No, there won’t be” I lie sweetly through a smile. The man seems somewhat placated as he gives a curt nod of approval.

“Now, Father has asked that I provide you with a brief overview of the SRB. Our primary responsibility is the recovery of escaped synths that are hiding among the human population on the surface” Ayo begins to explain, and I feel my heart sink about how this conversation is going to go.

“Why would synths want to escape?” I ask innocuously, not looking forward to the answer.

“Synths do not want. They might look like human beings, but they are machines” He replies condescendingly. _Synths are so much more than you think, asshole_.

“And as to why they’re escaping, that is currently under investigation”. He shifts towards the center of the room, his gaze falling upon a set of blueprints laid on the table.

“Our main instrument is the Courser, a third-generation synth assigned to operate on the surface. They hunt down and reclaim synths that have escaped” He states while gesturing to an illustration of a Courser’s armor.

“With training in combat, infiltration, and tracking, they are highly self-sufficient. In a word, our Coursers are relentless”. Ayo sighs as he places the large sheet of paper back onto the table.

“But I gather you know all of this, since you’ve encountered one already. In fact...” He says, moving around the table to step closer to me, “I’d very much like to know how you defeated it”.

I have to suppress a chuckle. “I don’t think they were expecting me to be proficient with knives, let alone know how to throw them” I smirk, and he scoffs.

“Even so, a Courser should be more than a match for a combatant such as yourself” Ayo says dismissively, the gray facial hair on his upper lip twitching.

“I suppose I’ll have to ask Robotics to perform detailed diagnostics on the entire production run, despite the rigorous psychological evaluation performed on Coursers after each mission to ensure they’re on baseline. Perhaps Rachael needs to make changes to the VK eval... as if we don’t have enough problems” He mutters, cupping his chin in one hand. “Now, unless you need something else, I’ll get back to work”.

“You mentioned that Coursers undergo special training. I’m curious about that” I ask. “The SRB constantly monitors the Gen-3 synth population, looking for specific traits. Those who show tenacity, fearlessness, and independence undergo a rigorous training program. Our specialists teach them armed and unarmed combat, investigative techniques, psychology, and mechanical skills” He elaborates, and it makes me wonder about the quality of said ‘specialists’.

 _Did I get lucky that I didn’t fight a more skilled Courser, or are they all that mediocre?_ “Those who pass the final evaluation become Coursers, and the rest have their memories wiped before returning to their former duties” Ayo finishes, and I have another question ready.

 _Let’s hope he doesn’t shoot this down_. “How does a Courser even capture a synth? I imagine that it’s fairly difficult” I question as nonchalantly as possible.

“Once a Courser has located a synth, it uses that synth’s recall code to render it inert. After returning it to the Institute, we begin the delicate process of restoring its neural pathways to their original configuration” He surprisingly answers, and I breathe a secret sigh of relief.

“In those cases where the procedure is successful, the synth returns to work with no memory of its time on the surface. But all too often, we’re unable to repair the damage and are forced to dispose of the unit entirely”. I nearly blanche at the thought.

“Dispose of the unit?” I murmur in horror, and I hear Alana snort behind me.

“I know it’ll be a difficult adjustment for you, but try to remember that synths aren’t people” An amused smile on her face greets me as I turn to face her. “Of course” I reply with a nod, and I immediately want to leave.

“I still need to visit the Robotics division today, so I’ll leave you all to your work” I announce politely, before turning around to walk as quickly and naturally as I can out of there.

Just like the SRB’s layout, I’m encouraged to follow the path of a long corridor. Flanked on either side by offices and laboratories, my attention takes in the sights of scientists busy at work with all kinds of research. I’ve only passed about a dozen rooms before I finally notice the sounds.

Up ahead, automated machines whirl about the large space of a giant room. A large pool of unknown liquid lies in the center of the organized chaos, and I turn my head to watch a pair of robotic tools begin constructing something nearby.

In equal parts horror and wonder, it creates a human skeleton in half a minute.

It halts before inserting the ribs into the spine, and a crane swoops down with large pincers to carry the unfinished skeletal structure over to the next station of the assembly line.

With the precision of a surgeon, it starts delicately inserting, connecting, and arranging the synthetic organs into the chest cavity.

After covering the now gut-filled abdomen with ribs, the machine inserts a pair of eyes into the skull before continuing with the muscle and connective tissue.

The tools simultaneously weave in the vast network of blood and nerve pathways as it goes. And like something straight out of Frankenstein, the tools shock the body with electricity at the next stage.

The newly constructed muscles begin to flush red with oxygenated blood as the electrical pulses kickstart the heart, and the final station is the pool of red liquid that I caught a glimpse of earlier.

As I wait with baited breath for what happens next, I overhear the threads of a conversation from nearby.

“Involuntary twitching and rapid eye movements while sleeping can only mean one thing, Max. You just don’t want to admit to yourself what it is” A man asserts, and I hear a sigh from his conversational partner.

“Alan, if you’re about to launch into one of your impassioned speeches about artificial sentience and machines with souls, don’t bother” Max replies, disdain heavy in his voice.

“I’ve heard enough of them by now. Hell, I could write them down from memory”. _Does anyone ever get along with each other in the Institute?_ Their words get louder as they continue arguing.

“But we can’t just ignore the question. If a synth can dream, why can’t it have a soul? And if a synth has a soul, then it is a living person by every standard we can measure”.

“You know we-“

“Of course, it’s far more comfortable to think of them as machines, so we can do what we want with them”.

“Dr. Binet, if you disapprove of the work we do here, you know where to find the teleporter”.

_Is that Liam’s dad?_

“Now just a moment, I never said that. I’m simply trying to open everyone’s eyes to new possibilities”.

“We’re men of science, not philosophers. You’d do well to remember that”.

“I think you guys all need an ethics class or three...” I mutter under my breath as I watch a naked Gen-3 synth emerge from the bloody water, the pool of liquid having coated her body in layers of skin.

 _She’s completely hairless... I wonder if it grows in later_. After the newborn android is guided somewhere by a Gen-2, I realize that both men have finally noticed my presence.

“Ah, you’ve finally arrived! We were wondering when you would find your way to our department” Binet calls out, making his way over to where I stand.

The other scientist walks off to take a seat in front of a nearby computer. “Watching the creation of our synths, are you?”.

“Yeah, it’s... interesting” I concede, not knowing how to describe how morally concerning of a procedure it was. It was overwhelming.

 _The Institute makes synths that are virtually indistinguishable from human beings, as a way to further evolve mankind, yet they’re treated as lowly manual workers?_ My brain hurt with the incongruity of it all.

“Tell me, Andie... do you dream?” He asks suddenly, and I’m taken off guard. “What?”.

“I ask only because I’ve been curious if the stress of being on the surface would hinder such a phenomena” The doctor replies, reinforcing his question.

“I don’t go around asking people in the Commonwealth if they dream, but I know that _I_ do” I answer, and his face lights up with intrigue for a split second before relaxing.

“Do you know of the Pre-War psychologist, Carl Jung?” Binet inquires, and I shake my head to prompt an explanation.

“Well, one of his theories was about something called individuation: a process of transformation where the conscious and unconscious parts of yourself are assimilated. He proposed that one of the ways someone could undergo this phenomenon was through their dreams”.

“I imagine you heard some of my conversation with Dr. Loken earlier about our Gen-3 synths; this concept of individuation is immensely interesting with regards to that population”.

“What are their dreams like? Are they superficial? Or are they layered with deeper meanings that lie underneath the surface, just like those of a human? If dreams are windows into the soul, what does that mean if a machine can dream?”.

_I wonder if the twins have dreams..._ I think to myself as glimpses of the cafeteria peek through the railings of the staircase.

“RiRi!” I hear a voice call out as I reach the bottom, and I lift my head to see Halley standing near the buffet’s queue.

“Are you going to eat?” She asks, and before I can decline the mashed amalgamations of ‘food’, her eyes take on a pleading look.

“They have my favorite! Try it!” My granddaughter begs excitedly, her finger pointing to a specific section of the serving table.

I follow it’s direction to find stacks of circular brown wafers. _Cookies?_ Without prompting, Halley places a tray into my open hands and I’m relegated to standing in line with her.

“I’ll have what she’s having” I state repeatedly to the synths who load up our trays in intervals with portions of our meal. As Halley races ahead of me to her seat, I call out to her.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna sit with the Directorate this time-“ I try to say, but I’m cut off by the sudden sensation of my right foot losing it’s grip with the ground.

Before I can pitch face-first into my tray, I swing my arms up and over my head in an attempt at retaining my balance.

It launches my food behind me, and I hear a loud smack as it hits something. After ensuring both feet are in contact with the floor, I turn around.

The young man who I bumped into last night was standing there with a face and uniform absolutely coated in food.

His expression was one of pure rage. The din of the cafeteria quieted substantially as I watched some of the mashed vegetables drip from his trembling body and onto the floor.

“I’m so sorry-“ I tried to apologize under the weight of a laugh. I heard a chorus of chuckles and snickers chime in around me as he flees the cafeteria in a barely contained storm of anger.

He narrowly avoids knocking a resident to the ground as he reaches the exit. _That kid is really not going to like me now_.

The bathroom mirror affixed to the wall taunts me as I stare at the wig weighing heavy in my hands. _You have to get ready for work... just put it on already_.

With a sigh, I pull on the artificial hair and gaze into the mirror while adjusting it’s elastic. I stare in silence at my reflection after I finish.

I resist the urge to rip the plastic disguise off. _Maybe no one at work would care. Fiona has a pixie cut, and nobody’s harassed them too much about it_.

I shake my head to knock some sense into me. _But you don’t have a pixie cut, you have an undercut. It’s not styled femininely either. You can’t risk losing this job while Robert’s overseas._

Taking a deep breath, I try to think of something more positive. _When he gets back from deployment, maybe we can see a movie at the drive-in for old time’s sake..._

When I look back in the mirror, I freeze. I’m not looking at my reflection anymore, but that of someone else.

A man with short auburn hair stares back at me, his muscular shoulders and biceps distinct underneath a tuxedo. Upon closer inspection, I realize that he has my eyes. _Wait a second..._

“Stop pretending to be something you’re not” The mirror version of me states, his baritone voice reverberating. He lets out a sigh.

“Accept the fact that you’re really just a-“ They continue, but they’re drowned out by the sounds of a heart rate monitor. Within the blink of an eye, my body is lying against an operating table.

A team of scrubs-adorned men surround me, but the bright operating room lamps prevent me from seeing their shadowy faces.

I become terrifyingly aware of the thin surgical gown covering my naked body, and I yank my wrists so I can sit up. But I feel resistance.

I can’t see them, but heavy velcro straps made for restraining patients during surgeries hold me down. I try to kick my feet, but they’re held tight as well.

“The synth’s resisting the general anesthesia” One of them remarks coldly through his surgical mask, before turning to his right.

 _Synth?_ My heart rate begins to skyrocket. “Increase the propofol”.

I make another attempt against the thick velcro straps but my limbs suddenly go numb.

A cold fog settles over my mind, and I’m left too bewildered by the sensation to focus on another set of restraints being strapped over my upper arms, neck, and waist.

“Just an extra layer of precaution. We wouldn’t want the retrieval process to be disrupted by even the slightest movement” The same man states, and my mouth dries in fear. _Retrieval process?_

“They’ll likely be in twilight for this” Someone laughs darkly. “As if it matters. They were a defective model to begin with. No use letting their organs go to waste” Another responds matter-of-factly, and a sudden dull pain blooms down my torso.

Unable to see what’s happening for what feels like an eternity of gut-wrenching pains in my abdomen, I nearly scream in horror as I watch the surgeon hand over my kidneys to an assistant.

Then my liver.

Then my stomach.

He laughs as my small intestine slips and slides around in his gloves as he slowly uncoils the organ foot-by-foot from my abdominal cavity. His arms become slicked with blood up to the elbows.

Lastly, after he removes the lungs from my chest so I can no longer breathe, I lay there suffocating as he wrenches my still-beating heart from my body.

“Now they’re no more human than a mannequin” The man declares, and my vision mercifully cuts to black.

I’m out of my bedroom even faster than last time. I wasn’t even wearing shoes, only snagging my jacket from off my nightstand, and I nearly slip on the last step of the staircase.

The artificial turf brushes against the soles of my feet as I shamble across the atrium like a twitching zombie.

When I’m finally hidden beneath the veil of willow branches, I’m as still as a statue. The mental images from my nightmare are omnipresent and inescapable in my mind, the back of my eyelids seared with afterimages of viscera.

I fold my fingers behind my neck in an attempt to zero in on the sensation of my hairline.

 _Stop thinking about it!_ The ground blurs in and out of focus as my attention flirts with the intrusive imagery.

When a hand suddenly grasps my shoulder and gently shakes it, I hardly react.

With a slow turn of my head, I discover that it’s B2-17. “Are you alright?” She asks softly, her face wrinkled with worry.

I stare into her hazel-brown eyes for a few moments, and I eventually notice her freckle-painted face as I search for a more appropriate visual fixation. _Her freckles... they’re like..._

“Bellatrix...” I mutter impulsively, my mind drifting to the star representing the left shoulder of my namesake constellation.

“What?” The synth replies confusedly. “Bellatrix. It’s the name of a star in the night sky. I think it suits you” I explain and I watch as her eyes practically sparkle. “You could even shorten it to Bella if you wanted to”.

“I... I love it. Bella is a perfect name” She whispers, tilting her head upwards. “The night sky is something I’ve always dreamed of seeing”.

An idea takes form. “How about the two of us go stargazing, right now?” I ask, needing a distraction, and her face is equally torn between excitement and fear.

“But unauthorized travel to the surface would result in disciplinary action...” Bella whispers, and I give her a smile as I remove the teleportation device from my jacket. It fits neatly into the palm of my left hand.

“We’ll be back before anyone knows that we’re gone” I assure her, offering her my free hand. Her hand extends hesitantly to grasp mine, and after activating the device, we’re off to marvel at the stars.

As Halley races towards the cafeteria after our reading session of a _Nancy Drew_ novel, C3-28 beckons me over from behind a bookshelf. They place their stack of book returns onto the cart as I approach, and there’s a happy smile on her face.

“Bella won’t stop talking about what happened the other night” She whispers, and my face lights up with a warm expression. “I haven’t seen my sister smile like that in weeks. I don’t know how I can thank you”.

“Well, I thought it would be a shame to waste a potential opportunity of showing Bella her namesake. I was happy to do it, Cardinal” I reply sheepishly, not realizing until I see the synth’s expression that I let something slip.

“You’re always reading books about birds when I visit, so I just assumed they were a passion of yours” I quickly explain, hoping that it wasn’t a presumptuous name to give her.

But the synth’s eyes sparkle just as Bella’s did. “You couldn’t have picked a better name for me” She murmurs, her hand grasping her chin absentmindedly. “Cardinal. I love the sound of it”.

Just as I was about to begrudgingly sit down among the Directorate with a plate of food, my head snapped upwards at the loud sound of something hitting the floor. Across the cafeteria, a man loomed over a crouching figure.

Discarding my meal upon the table, I made my way towards the duo. If the Directors said anything to dissuade me from interfering, I didn’t hear it.

As I slowly approached, weaving through several rows of tables, I saw a third figure run towards the scene.

In shock, I watched as Cardinal helped a food-covered Bella to her feet. The unidentified man turned out to be the same one that I had embarrassed several days prior.

“The two of you disgust me” He sneers as I step within earshot. “Synths do not _have_ siblings. They do not experience the camaraderie of shared blood. Your façade of a familial connection is as artificial and false as your supposed humanity”.

My blood boils as he continues to barrage them with hate. “How dare the Robotics division create such a bastardization of the meaning of family?!” He yells for everyone to hear, and I could have heard a pin drop as the conversations around us grind to a halt.

 _Hold it together, Orion_. But my anger only continues to rise as everyone around me glances awkwardly away from the commotion.

Bella looks terrified, and Cardinal’s expression is filled with dismay. _Is everyone going to ignore this?_

“Elon, stop wasting your breath” Someone calls out from a few tables to the left. He scoffs at the comment, running a hand over his slicked dark brown hair.

“I’m the son of the acting director of the Synth Retention Bureau. I am entitled to my opinion, _Neil_ ” He sneers, and I can’t help but marvel at the spitting resemblance in arrogance between Elon and his father. “And besides, it’s just worthless synths”.

No longer able to stop myself, I finally step in. “Oh _look_ , it’s the Commonwealth trash” He leers, his voice dripping with contempt after putting myself between him and the twins.

“Feeling pity for the pathetic synths, are we?”. A lion of rage roars within my chest. _I’m gonna kill him_.

“That’s enough. Leave them alone” I assert coldly, trying to maintain my composure. He laughs. _Laughs_.

I take a step towards him. “Get out of my face, you synth loving freak” He threatens, but I stand my ground.

I turn my head to see that Bella has finally gotten to her feet with her sister’s help. They give me identical smiles of appreciation.

A fist swings into my jaw before I can react. “I _said_ , get out of my fucking face! Are you deaf too?!” He snarls as I stumble backwards.

My back slams against the floor, and I narrowly manage to prevent my head from doing the same.

 _He punched me!_ I hardly register the twins standing above me, but I let them help me up all the same.

I raise my fingers up to my mouth. The capillaries under the skin must have broken, for when I pull my digits away to glance at them, they’re stained with blood.

I resist the urge to smile as I realize that this injury and the dead silence around me are permission for reciprocated violence.

Now on my feet, Elon says something about how I’ll “never be one of them” as I remove my leather jacket.

Turning around, I shove the article of clothing unceremoniously into Bella’s chest, and she grasps it in shock. I flick my wrist forward, motioning them to step back.

Facing Elon once again, I roll up the sleeves of my flannel shirt. “I don’t want some nobody’s blood on my jacket” I mutter only loud enough for him to hear, cracking my knuckles. _This is gonna be fun_.

He falls for the bait, charging at me with his hand reeled back with a yell. “You’ll be down on the ground when I’m through with you!”.

With a quick sidestep, he misses me. To add insult to injury, a slight extension of my foot trips him enough that he face-plants onto the floor.

“C’mon, get up!” I chuckle, and he responds by launching himself off the floor.

He aims another punch at my head, and I block it with my forearm. But his left fist comes crashing into my collarbone, forcing a gasp from my mouth. _Shit_.

When he tries once more to hit my skull, I barely duck in time.

The adrenaline kicks in as I send an uppercut straight into his ribs, and when he recoils in pain, I take the opportunity to land a slug to his jaw. _Fuck you!_

He lands on his back against a nearby table, a flurry of yells and shrieks ringing out at the sudden table guest.

I make my way over, hoping that I’ve knocked him out, when my opponent suddenly springs up from the table.

A knife in hand, he’s on the attack again.

He rushes me, and I’m forced to lock my hand around his wrist as he tries to stab me. With his free hand, he smashes a fist into my nose.

The sensation of the cartilage breaking sends pain through my face, and after I grab his free hand with my own, it’s a test of strength to see who will overpower the other. Blood trails slowly from my right nostril.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a dropped food tray lying on the ground. _That’s what Bella dropped all over herself because of Elon!_

With all of my might, I shove him backwards and make a dash towards the object.

I snag it off the ground just in time to shield myself against the plunging blade in Elon’s hands.

He tries several more times to get past my makeshift barrier, and I’m only scarcely able protect myself against the hazardous jabs.

Eventually, I manage to knock the knife from his grip with a well-timed swing. While he’s distracted, I sweep his leg out from under him with my foot.

He stumbles, and I take my chance. His head becomes my next target as I swing the tray as hard as I can.

It strikes his forehead with a large smack, and he crumples to the floor. With ragged breaths, I let the tray fall as well.

After a few moments of silence, I hear cheers and whistling from the younger section of the cafeteria. A few claps find their way from the adult crowd as well. _Close combat isn’t my forte, but I think I made it work._

As I glance around the room, Bella and Cardinal come running up to me. “Are you alright?” Cardinal asks, handing me a cloth napkin.

Wiping off the blood around my nose and mouth, I softly pinch my nose as I tilt my head forward. “Never better” I chuckle, and after ensuring my nose has stopped dripping, I take my jacket back from a still shell-shocked Bella.

“Thanks for holding my jacket” I say, giving her a small smile as I drape it over my shoulder. “You.. you...” She mumbles, struggling to speak her mind.

“You don’t need to thank me” I respond, before adding more quietly “That’s what friends are for”. Both of their eyes widen at that, and I leave them to make my way back to the Directorate. _I can’t have people being suspicious._

When I take my seat among Shaun and the others, I can feel their heavy stares.

“Dr. Ayo, you really oughta teach your son some self-restraint” I state before anyone can speak, shoveling a forkful of lukewarm food into my mouth. As he sputters in disbelief, I think I hear Dr. Li stifle a laugh.

“Would you see Dr. Volkert after dinner? He’s our head physician here, and I think your nose needs medical attention” Shaun says nonchalantly, and I try not to let my astonishment at his concern show.

“Father, she assaulted my son! You’re not going to say anything?!” Ayo exclaims as he stands up, and Shaun turns towards the man.

“Your son was out of line, even more so than usual. It’s a wonder no one else was hurt” He remarks coolly, and that seems to quiet the man. Without another word, he walks in the direction of his unconscious son.

The rest of dinner goes by uneventfully, and when I visit the infirmary, Dr. Volkert resets my broken nose. After taping up my nose to hold it in place, he sends me off to bed with an ice pack for my lip and a comment kindly discouraging me from “fist fighting any of the other residents”.

When the door to my room slides shut behind me, I take a seat in front of my terminal. Opening up the encrypted chatroom, I type out a message: “Are you planning to send synths topside anytime soon?”.

After two weeks of correspondence, planning, and deliberation between the Railroad and I, we finally devised a plan.

The first step in that plan was learning about the security measures within the Institute.

With the help of Tinker Tom, he devised a program on a holotape that would help him learn about the firewalls in the electronic security. So when the day came, he would be able to more easily tap into their network.

While the residents of the Institute were distracted by the upcoming break for the holiday season of Christmas and New Year’s, I was able to collect security data from various terminals throughout the departments. I still had to be careful about when I teleported out, to avoid suspicion.

On Christmas Day, Halley loved her new books from _The Boxcar Children_ series. Shaun had gotten something more sentimental: a “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament. I had to explain it’s significance to him, but he seemed to appreciate it.

With Cardinal’s help, I managed to get copies of the most useful books in the library to take back to the Commonwealth.

Anatomy, biology, engineering, medicine, agriculture, and synth creation were just a few topics of the information found in these texts. I also snagged a few dust-covered copies of Gen-2 synth maintenance manuals for Nick.

When discussing with Deacon to designate a coordinated meetup for the incoming massive influx of synths in a hidden location, I informed him of two special people that I wanted as far away from the Commonwealth as possible for the time being. _If there’s a way for them to transition, they won’t be safe until they’re well-on hormone therapy..._

“They’re... not like the others. The twins look like men, but they’re actually women” I elaborate, and Deacon’s face grows curious. _Someone who wears disguises is probably the best person I can ask about this. I hope he can help._

“Do you know anyone who could help them... look more feminine?” I inquire hesitantly, and Deacon grins. “I think I know a person” He replies, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Anything else?” He asks, and I shake my head.

When I tell the twins of this the next night, they’re ecstatic. _I wonder if that’ll be me someday... too many people know me as a woman though._

_It might be too difficult... how would everyone react?_

A month passed.

We waited until the day before the Railroad’s infiltration to move the synths out. Around 350 synths needed to be transported _before_ _morning_.

Liam disabled all cameras inside _and_ outside the Institute for the next 48 hours as I slowly transported groups of synths to Vault 111.

When removing and disabling the special trackers implanted behind the right ear of each of the twins, he explained that those were a precaution because of the last three experimental synths that had escaped in the past. It was something he had done before, as he had helped the last special synth escape as well.

He also discovered that I didn’t have a tracker on my transportation device like I had thought, so that made my job easier.

The synths would live there in the Vault until the Railroad could find safe homes for them, but there was to be a special guest among them for the upcoming days.

After ensuring that Halley’s caregiver was fast asleep, I took one step into her room to discover that she was already awake.

Next to her nightstand laid the suitcase I had given her earlier. “Yuri never saw it, right?” I ask quietly, and she nods in agreement.

“I’m ready!” She whispers excitedly, her white pajama sleeves covering her hands as she raises them in excitement. As she gets out of her bed, I grab her suitcase. Before I can ask why it’s so heavy, a glance at her empty bookshelf speaks volumes.

When she begins walking towards me, she suddenly stops. “Wait!” She whispers, running to the small desk in the corner of the room.

Halley picks up a small potted plant, and I recognize it as a cactus. “Can we bring Spike?” She says, lifting the plant up towards me. _I didn’t know that she liked plants!_

“Of course you can, Hale Bopp” I reply, the girl’s face lighting up at my nickname for her. With her spiky friend gripped in her hands, I place my hand on her shoulder to teleport us into the Vault.

When I go back for the twins, I teleport us to the Railroad HQ as Deacon had instructed. “Will we see you again?” Bella asks, her eyes shining under the moonlight. “Yes, but not for a while” I answer, my heart aching at the thought.

Before I can stop myself, I grab both of them by the shoulders and drag them into a tight hug.

“Take care of yourselves, okay?” I mutter, my tear ducts ready for a show if I don’t hold it together. They both nod, and after a few moments, I eventually break the embrace. Deacon finally decides to speaks up.

“I’ll escort them to where they need to go, Whisper. You still have a lot more Vault Dwellers to pick up” He remarks, a smile on his face before watching him guide the twins into the dark Boston streets. “I’ll bring Nick with me on the way back!” He yells, and then they’re gone around a corner.

He was right about the amount of work left to do. _Around a hundred and fifty more to go..._

The next morning was terrifying. Half an hour after 7 o’clock, when I had spent the past hour pretending to puke my guts out with a pre-recorded holotape as my alibi, someone came banging on my door.

“What is it?” I ask blearily, pretending to stumble my way towards the door. I made sure to have a streak of drool on my chin.

When it slides open, Allie Filmore greets me. “I’m sorry to disturb you- oh my god you look terrible!” She says before changing topics at the sight of my face.

Even though I had finished transporting synths around 4am, I decided to let my two hours of possible sleep be used for adding an extra layer of exhaustion to my face. _Sleep deprivation adds to my deception, like I’ve been really vomiting all night._

“I’ve been vomiting all night” I murmur, and she gazes at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry to hear that, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but something’s happened” Allie remarks, and I feign a look of confusion on my face.

“The entire population of Gen-3 synths went missing last night, and that’s not all. They kidnapped Halley” She states, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper at the last part. I stand there for a few moments, pretending to be in shock.

“You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you’re kidding!” I say, grabbing her shoulders. I make my hands begin to tremble.

“You’re lying, she can’t be gone!” I yell, letting all those thoughts about Shaun come flooding back.

The tears kick in soon after, and I didn’t even have to force them. “Not again... I can’t do this again” I whisper, shoving my face in my hands.

“Father has the entire Courser division out searching for them. Ayo’s surveillance system was scrambled, but he’s doing everything he can to get it up and running again” She hurriedly elaborates, and I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“They’ll find her. Father would sooner die before letting his daughter be lost forever” She assures me, and I feel anxiety in the pit of my stomach.

_We made sure to directly teleport inside the Vault, so there wouldn’t be any signs of recent activity around the platform. I hope they don’t think to check..._

For the rest of the day, after Allie left me to my supposed grief, I lay there in terror as I waited for the designated time to retrieve my comrades from HQ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elon Ayo is a feral bastard of my own creation and he is a DELIGHT to write. He's such a piece of shit, it's awful.
> 
> I wanted the fight scene between him and Orion to be more Go Crazy, Go Stupid but Orion had an audience to consider- Halley was watching too! He couldn't beat the guy completely senseless. But in the Tomorrow arc, which takes place after OMT, there WILL be a fight scene like that 👀
> 
> Halley's dialogue is something I try to be accurate with, since she's 5-6 years old, and there's a balance of "child with limited vocabulary" and "the Institute's teaching standards are MUCH higher so her speaking is probs a lil different than an average kid"
> 
> Also, there's a particular reason for why I chose Cardinal and not a more common songbird name 👀


	8. Repulsion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this chapter completed since July... 3 months!!! I wrote it immediately after finishing the first chapter of this arc.
> 
> Content warning for transphobia/homophobia, and self-harm/suicidal ideation.
> 
> I'm so sorry, Orion! OMT and Tomorrow are wayyyy better arcs emotions-wise for you!! 😭

The strident screeching of the emergency alarms echo in my head as I take the empty staircase two steps at a time.

 _I need to get to Shaun’s quarters and find the lockdown override._ Nick had asked if I wanted his help, but I told him I would be fine.

He would assist Deacon and the others in rigging the reactor for the explosion, and we would all meet up again in the relay station. Tinker Tom was busy downloading all of the Institute’s servers and databases as fast as he could.

This day was a month in the making, and every second counted. _I can’t wait to sleep underneath the stars again._

I skid to a halt when I turn the corner into the room and spot Shaun. He’s lying inside of a gurney-like device, and the hair raises on the back of my neck as our eyes meet. _So this is where he’s been all day?_

“Ah, there you are. I didn’t expect to see you again. It’s not enough that I lay here, dying... Now you plan on what, destroying everything? Especially after the loss of my daughter?” His voice dripping with cynicism.

“Dying?” I choke out, and he coughs. “Yes, I’m dying. Terminal cancer” He replies shortly, and I struggle to maintain eye contact. I don’t even know what to say. _Why didn’t he say anything sooner? Maybe I could have helped to evacuate him..._

My fingers fidget on my rifle sling. It’s like looking at a mirror, and I have to steel my voice to keep it together: “I’m sorry it’s come to this, Shaun”.

He laughs dryly before being interrupted by a small cough. “You’re sorry? You can’t be that sorry, if you’re here going through with it. Tell me, then. Under what righteous pretense have you justified this atrocity?”.

I let out a shuddering sigh. “It’s for the greater good. The Commonwealth deserves to determine its own fate” I force through tense jaws, crossing the room towards the terminal at his desk.

 _This place should never have existed. You isolated yourselves from the real world up above and lost your humanity in the process._

“Spare me. You’ve spent time up there. You know as well as I that it’s doomed. The Railroad radicalized you much more than I would have thought” I hear him retort as I focus on unlocking his computer.

It doesn’t take me long, and I instigate the evacuation announcement protocol. _The people who make it out of here alive... They better learn to accept the people of the Commonwealth_.

After decrypting the second password for the reactor override, I notice something.

A folder titled _Project Genesis_ sits towards the bottom of the screen, and I scroll down to select it after activating the reactor override.

A dozen reports organized chronologically pop onto the screen. Several paragraphs of text slowly load in when I choose the first report, and I start skimming through the barrage of words on each document.

> _When the Institute discovered the previously unknown Vault 111, they were elated to have found a cryogenically-preserved infant capable of providing them with radiation-free DNA..._
> 
> _Once I was appointed Director, I learned of my rescue from the Vault. I found out that my father had died after refusing to hand me over, and that my mother was placed into suspension once again as a back-up. They never returned for her, as I provided all the DNA that they needed and more._
> 
> _In my increasing age, I grew nostalgic of the life that I might have had with my parents... I sent out a reconnaissance team in 2274 to the Vault in hopes that she would still be alive_
> 
> _They discovered that she had fallen into a comatose state after the cryostasis life support systems fell into disrepair... The BioScience division tried desperately to revive her over the years since, but to no affect..._
> 
> _I discovered in our archives a shuttered and nearly century-old program, known simply as Persona... They had attempted to evolve our Gen-2 synths by creating two artificial intelligence prototypes..._
> 
> _One was a blank slate, allowed to create their own personality through learning and experience. The other relied upon a pre-downloaded personality, of which they went through many due to their instability..._
> 
> _I wondered if putting human memories inside a synth body would work now with our more advanced technology. I gave our Robotics division a special assignment: Project Genesis_
> 
> _They have already been using her psyche and DNA as an emotional base for a small selection of experimental synths, such as D3-40 and the twins, but now, they would attempt to transplant my mother’s entire mind into a synthetic replicant, much like with Persona..._

All of my senses blurs into static. _Fuck._

> _The task proved rather difficult. The replicant body had to be meticulously identical to the original... I decided to look through my mother’s memories in order to ascertain why they had done a procedure to remove her breast tissue, in case we needed to know of some condition_

_Fuck, fuck, fuck! He wasn’t supposed to know!_

> _I was disgusted by what I saw. My ‘mother’ thought she was a man. A man! Why would my father, who I discovered was a closeted homosexual, fall in love with a woman?_

I skip through the rancor-filled rant to the final paragraphs, forcing myself to read it to the end.

> _The wait continues. Ayo’s Watcher pods can only confirm sightings outside Vault 111 and in Diamond City sometime later. What that means, I’m not sure_
> 
> _She’s moving far quicker than we predicted, and we don’t have enough pods to cover the entire Commonwealth. Will we actually meet? Was this all for nothing? No, not nothing_
> 
> _I will have learned valuable things about myself and my past, even by just analyzing her actions from afar. I cannot afford to let emotion get in the way. I must simply observe and record..._
> 
> _I’m going to see if my mother’s emotions are strong enough for her to pursue her ‘infant son’ through the heartless wasteland above our heads... Maybe she can be my successor if she proves herself worthy-_

My tactical knife shatters the monitor’s glass display, and I toss the terminal over the loft’s railing with ease.

I look into Shaun’s startled eyes as I hear the computer break into a hundred pieces. “ _You_ did this to me? You made me a synth with the wrong body on purpose!?” I snarl, holding my knife dangerously close to his throat.

“You were born a woman, and you _cannot_ change that- just as my father couldn’t stop his attraction to men!” Shaun yells, his body trembling from the exertion.

Stabbing a section of pillow next to his right ear, I scream “You can recognize the variations in attraction, but _not_ someone feeling as though they were born in the wrong body?!”.

“You saw my life through my memories and you still refuse to accept the truth? What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?! You’re my son, god dammit!” My voice echoes around us in the empty apartment.

He squints his eyes and raises his chin in disgust.

“I spent years wondering what you were like. Thinking about all we missed out on. I even let myself get a little excited about our first meeting. Now, I’m glad I wasn’t raised by a delusional person like you!” He sneers.

I retrieve my knife from beside his head, my hand uncontrollably shaking. I almost wish I could kill him myself.

My psyche feels like it’s shattering into a hundred little pieces, just like his computer. “Where is my body, Shaun?” My voice rough like shards of glass.

He stays silent, but I can see his gaze focus on something behind me. I swivel my head and spot an urn sitting alone on a table.

When I pick up the container and cradle it in the crook of my elbow, all I could imagine was when I held Robert for the last time.

After digging his grave, I was able to run my fingers through his golden hair one last time and tell him how much I loved him.

But now? I only had the pulverized dust of my human remains encased in cold, hard plastic.

My remains.

Something that _used_ to be human.

And just like my mind, it _used_ to be inside a human, but now...

My knees nearly give out.

I couldn’t even _begin_ to describe the feeling settling into my chest.

It felt like time was folding in on itself, that I was being sucked into a black hole. The pull of it’s gravity stripped me of all emotion, and it ripped my breath away.

“I’m taking him home” I announce solemnly after a while, walking towards the stairs.

I can feel my heart putting up another wall, trying to grab the pieces of my psyche and weld them back together again.

“ _Him_?” He scoffs. “I’m taking Orion home” I repeat, all of the anger from earlier having dissolved.

_No one can ever know about this._

“Goodbye, Shaun Robert Fitzgerald” My farewell feels hollow as I vocalize it, and I hear nothing but silence as the door slides shut behind me.

“We’re all done, Tom. Let’s get out of here while we can” Desdemona says as we’re teleported to the relay station.

“I’m with ya, boss, but... this kid showed up. He says he’s Whisper’s son” Tinker Tom replies uneasily.

_What?_

“Please, mom... Don’t leave me here! I want to go with you!” A shrill voice begs. The term “mother” makes me flinch, and I tighten my grip on my backpack strap.

Exiting the relay station platform, the small blonde-haired synth child from my first day here stands in front of us.

 _This wasn’t part of the plan, why is he here?_ I open my mouth to protest, but I stop when I see his face _. God, his eyes... MY eyes._

“You... you can come with me” I croak out softly, stepping forward to place my free hand on his shoulder. “Really? Do you mean it?” He asks, his bright blue eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Yes, I mean it. Now.. let’s get out of here” I assert with feigned confidence and an empty smile. “I’m glad you were here to save me” Shaun replies with a sigh of relief, embracing me in a quick hug.

Tinker Tom says something to a nearby agent about sending him to Sanctuary, but a dagger’s been shoved into my chest.

_I couldn’t even save my real son... and I’m leaving him here to die. He’s going to die here. Just like I did._

A frigid February wind cuts through my leather jacket like a knife, but I can’t feel it.

_I’m a synth._

The knowledge of what’s in my backpack is all I can focus on.

_I’m a synth._

The reactor detonator lies within reach of my fingers, and I feel nothing as I flip the switches to arm it.

 _I’m just a machine, pretending to be human_. _I’m a fake_.

My fist slams so hard on the button that I wonder if I’ve broken it after several moments pass.

That question dissipates once a blinding blue light emanates from the ground. The massive plume of smoke and fire is duplicated in my vision as I blink away the effects of the nuclear flash.

A shockwave hits mere seconds later, and the building begins to shake. I’m almost knocked off my feet, but I feel Nick’s hands steadying my shoulders. “I got ya, kid”.

I stare off into the skyline as the sun begins to rise; the morning light turns into an assortment of beautiful pinks and oranges that mixes in with the red fire.

 _They took my mind and left a hollow twin_.

“A new day begins, and the people of the Commonwealth will sleep soundly tonight, for the greatest monster was gone” Nick remarks, his voice full of awe.

“It took a lotta guts to do what you did. I know it couldn’t have been easy” He adds in a softer tone.

I turn around to reply, but nothing comes out; it feels like I’ve forgotten how to speak. The words sit in my throat like vomit.

My mouth closes and I stare into the empty space behind his head. I can’t feel my hands.

I can’t feel _anything_.

My thoughts are looping in circles like a broken holotape.

_Robert is dead, Robert is dead, Robert is dead._

_Shaun is dead, Shaun is dead, Shaun is dead._

_I couldn’t save them, couldn’t save them, couldn’t save them._

_I’m never going to die, never going to die, never going to die, never going to die._

_I’m going to live forever with this guilt, forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever._

Nick’s face turns heavy with worry, but I look to Desdemona before he can say anything: “Let’s get back to headquarters”.

She looks like she had planned something to say, but I walk past her and head inside the building so I don’t jump off the roof. 

Drummer Boy runs out to greet us before quickly pulling Desdemona aside to whisper something in her ear.

Her face is impossible to read as she tells Nick and I to wait outside for a minute.

“You were awful quiet the whole way here, are you going to be okay Andie-“ Nick tries to start, but I cut him off at the mention of my name.

“Yeah” I interrupt, staring at the ground.

“You do remember that you can tell me anything, right?” He asks again.

“Yeah” I repeat.

Desdemona calls us inside, but stops us at the end of the staircase before we enter the main room.

“Patriot didn’t make it out of the Institute. He died during the evacuation. Are we clear?” She states with authority, and my head nods compliantly without a second thought.

“Read this letter, and then destroy it. We won’t talk about this again” She asserts, handing me a piece of paper.

I hear Nick gasp in shock as he reads the scathing message over my shoulder.

I can’t even manage a reaction when I see the sentence, “ _You lost your son. You missed out on every moment of his life. Now, I see it’s only what you deserved”._

_We can agree on that, Liam. I deserve it. I’m nothing._

I tear the letter to shreds, letting the fragments float onto the ground, and Nick sputters in disbelief as I silently follow after Desdemona.

Liam’s body is laid upon one of Carrington’s operating tables, and members of the Railroad are silently gathered around the room.

“We knew that taking the fight to the Institute would cost us..” She begins, but I don’t listen to the rest.

_I don’t belong, I don’t belong._

I feel my feet automatically start walking, and I let them guide me out of the underground base.

I hear Nick scramble after me to catch up, but he doesn’t say anything. We walk through the dark catacombs in silence.

After leaving the Old North Church, I knew where we had to go.

I think Nick eventually figured out our destination as we left behind the tall skyscrapers of the city for the open fields of the countryside.

As we cross one of the bridges over the Charles River, the void calls to me like a siren. _We’re not even that high off the water, you wouldn’t die_.

I pick up the pace once I see the Red Rocket, and soon I’m running across the bridge into Sanctuary.

I tore down our street until I stood in front of the giant ash tree in the cul-de-sac.

With shaking hands, I retrieve the urn from my bag and use my knife to pry open the container.

My grip slips and the blade slashes across the knuckles of my other hand, but I don’t care.

I even relish the sensation. It was something _different_.

Carefully scooping a handful of ashes with my fingers, I spread them over Robert’s grave.

I reseal the container and grasp it tightly in my hands. It feels like I’ve been standing there for an eternity before I fall to my knees and begin to cry.

 _This nightmare is officially never going to end._ The tears are streaming down my face as I start sobbing. 

_I failed you, Robert. I didn’t save our son from the Institute._

_I’m sorry, Robbie. I’m sorry._

_I failed, I failed, I failed._

_My whole journey to find him was just an EXPERIMENT._

_It wasn’t real, none of it was. It was as manufactured as my body._

_And the real Orion? He died surrounded by people who didn’t care about him._

_Not even our son loved us. I was just a research project to him._

“Hey, why is mom crying?” Shaun asks innocently. “Will RiRi be okay?” I hear Halley join in.

“They’re.. grieving. She’s gonna need some time to herself, okay sports?” I heard Nick reply as the trio walk away together.

Hugging the urn tightly against my chest, I shut my eyes. _Are we going to always be seen as mother figures? Will it ever be safe to tell everyone the truth?_

 _Am I going to be seen as a woman until my body falls apart someday, if it ever even does?_

_What am I going to do now? What am I going to do?_

I cried with grief for the destruction of my family at the hands of split atoms, and I laid there in anguish at the thought of being stuck in an eternal body that would never match my true self.

A gentle shake of my shoulder makes me flinch out of my dissociating. “Hey... you’ll get sick if you stay out in this weather” Nick says with a remarkably tender voice.

I open my eyes to see that the winter sun had long disappeared behind the clouds of an approaching radstorm, and the sounds of distant thunder were unmistakable.

 _I’m a synth, we’re not affected by radiation_.

My attempt at standing up fails as my knees buckle in protest from being folded underneath me for who knows how long, so Nick grabs my hand to lift me up the rest of the way.

I silently let him lead me down the street towards my house. After Nick closes the front door behind us, I stumble haphazardly down the hallway to my bedroom.

A passing glance at Shaun’s old room drags my mood down even further.

I place the urn on the dresser before mechanically climbing underneath the blankets of my bed.

“Are those his?” Nick asks quietly with a hesitant nod towards the dresser.

“Yeah” I reply dejectedly.

“He was already...?” He questions.

“Yeah” I say in the same detached tone. _Let him think they’re Shaun’s_.

After a few moments of heavy silence, I have a question of my own.

“Nick... could you grab the small notebook out of my bag? I don’t think I’m going to need it anymore” I request numbly.

_It’s a testament to my failure._

He does what I ask, and he goes to stand in the doorway after securing it in his coat pocket. “If you need anything else, I’ll be just down the hall”.

The thought of being alone sends paralyzing fear into my body.

“Please don’t leave me” I weakly plead, tears threatening to start again.

 _I’m scared of what I might do_.

Nick quickly reaches over and grabs one of my hands. “I won’t, doll. I’ll stay with you here all night if you’d like” He reassures me gently.

He walks over to the old armchair sitting in the corner of the room, and drags it over to my bedside. After taking a seat and grabbing my hand once more, I close my eyes to escape reality.

I startle awake from an indecipherable nightmare full of yelling and screaming to the sound of someone singing: “ _Though things may look very dark, your dream is not in vain. For when do you find the rainbow? Only after rain_ ”.

“ _So wish on the moon, and someday it may be tomorrow; you will suddenly hear chimes, and you’ll have your happy, happy times_ ” Nick croons, his hand rubbing my upper back. I close my eyes and try to let his voice lull me off to sleep again. 

Late morning sunlight pours through the bedroom windows, and I glance over my shoulder to find Nick with a blank expression on his face.

“Calibrating your system?” I ask sluggishly, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand.

“Yeah, I haven’t had the chance to do it in a while” He responds quickly, his eyes closing and opening a few times before focusing on me. “How ya feeling?”.

I can feel a void threatening to swallow my thoughts again as what happened yesterday hits me, and I try to think of something to say. _Think, think._

“I don’t know. I think... I think I need something to focus on, _anything_ ” I throw out, my brain searching for any possible projects or activities to give my attention to.

Nick’s head nods empathetically. “Well, while you were sleeping, I took a peek at the notebook you gave me. I think you’re still gonna need it. You have a lot more stories ahead of you to bring back to them” He asserts softly, fishing it out of his coat pocket to hand over.

 _You still have a lot left to live for_ , my thoughts echo.

“Got anything on your back burner? I think I remember you mentioning a ‘special case’ of yours” I ask with a distracted caress of the journal’s soft leather binding.

_I’m going to bury all these feelings deep inside me. Maybe I’ll tell someone someday... but not right now._

Moments after placing my urn on top of Robert’s grave, Shaun comes running up to me.

“Mom! Is it true? Did you really blow up the Institute? Why would you do that?” He asks at lightning speed, his eyes gleaming with intrigue.

“It’s kind of a long and convoluted story. All you need to know is that you’re safe now here in Sanctuary” I respond with a guilty sigh, placing a hand on his shoulder as I get down to his eye level.

“As long as you don’t leave me, it’ll be okay. You’re... you’re not gonna leave me, right?” He asks uneasily, suddenly wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug.

It takes every ounce of willpower not to cry as I hug him back just as tightly. “I won’t, Shaun. I won’t”.

“Before I forget... Father, uh, he told me to give this to you. I didn’t listen to it, so I dunno what it says, but I think it’s important” He says while pulling a holotape from his pocket.

 _If it’s some ‘final words’ bullshit_ , _I don’t care._ “Thanks, Shaun. I’ll have a listen to it later” I reply through a forced smile as I slip it into my bag.

“Mr. Valentine needs my help with a case of his, so I’ll be gone for a few weeks, okay?” I assure, before realizing something.

“I never cleaned up your room, so you and Halley can sleep in my bed for the time being. And maybe I’ll find some time to rig a wireless connection between my Pip-Boy and my terminal so we can send messages while we’re apart” I rattle off, realizing that I wasn’t ready for taking a child home this time around, let alone two of them.

“Can you do something for me?” Shaun suddenly asks.

“Of course, what is it?” I question, my curiosity stimulated.

“I want to try building something for you, and I need an old telephone for it. Will you look for one?” Shaun requests, his eyes pleading.

“You... you like building things?” My mouth agape. _He’s just like me!_

“Yes! It’s super fun taking things apart and making something new with them” He says excitedly. _He’s just like me..._

“Follow me, I have something for you then” I implore, suppressing a giddy urge to run. I lead him over to my house’s backyard, where I’ve built up walls and replaced the ground with concrete to extend the garage for storage.

I point to a large military weapon’s chest: “That there is _full_ of junk like old electronics and spare parts. Help yourself to them, since I’m always collecting more”.

Shaun runs over to open it, and his eyes shimmer with delight. He’s like a kid in a candy store. “Thanks, mom!” He yells, running over to give me another hug.

Not even being called “mom” could prevent a smile forcing it’s way onto my face, and I tousle his hair. “No problem, Shaun. I look forward to seeing your inventions when I get back”.

After leaving him to his own devices, I head towards the bridge at the entrance of the neighborhood.

When I pass by the Minutemen’s house, I spot Halley sitting eagerly in front of Mama Murphy. The old woman seems to be telling her a story, and the girl is absolutely _enthralled_.

Smoking a cigarette, Nick stood waiting for me as I approached him.

“Let’s start at the Natick Police Department station down south, then work our way across the Commonwealth. That sound good?” He posits, and I nod my head in agreement.

“He’s had this coming to him for a long time. It’s a good thing you’re patient”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The definition of "croon" is really fucking cute, it means "hum or sing in a soft low voice, especially in a sentimental manner". Perfect for what Nick was doing.
> 
> When a Railroad agent brought Shaun to Sanctuary, I imagine they went over to the Vault and told all the synths that it was safe. So cue Halley running up outta there, and said agent hanging out with these kiddos and the synths until Orion comes back.
> 
> Because Orion never worked through all of the anger that he felt towards Shaun, that pops back up in OMT's The Day The Earth Stood Still chapter.
> 
> In OMT, the new context of Orion helping Nick come to terms with his synth identity is pretty profound and ironic, coming from a dude who is still trying to do that THEMSELVES. I'm gonna have to edit in more self-hatred to that arc as a result, cause Orion did Not work through that in the weeks after all this shit went down.
> 
> Also, as you can tell, Orion has synth siblings! Cardinal and Bella are his trans sisters... transistors... wow I just realized that pun. There’s another sibling however, that mysterious D3-40! 👀 You’ve met him before tho!
> 
> (Brain: Orion’s emotions are tied too much to his gender identity so any of the people you put part of his brain in, they gonna be trans too lmao, that’s totally how that works)
> 
> Now... Tomorrow is the name of the next arc! It’ll start up with Far Harbor shenanigans and be a hodgepodge of a bunch of different one off story ideas!


End file.
